This Bag of Stones
by opaque-fantasy
Summary: When he was young, Harry was given a bag of stones and told they were 'magical'. To anyone else, it was plain rubbish. To Harry however, it was hope.
1. Prologue

**This Bag of Stones**

**Prologue**

The faint roar of a car's engine fired in the distance as the last dredges of the afternoon traffic rush hour returned home for the evening. Work and school had ended for the day and children and adults alike were settling down for dinner. All but a select few, that is. Harry had delayed his return as long as possible, hiding out in the library until the librarian had kicked him out at closing time. He closed his eyes for a few seconds as he approached the park, hoping against all hope that Dudley had decided to just stay in that evening. It was to no avail.

Dudley and his gang of friends were loitering by the swing set. Harry's heart froze in his chest and he fought to calm himself. _Alright Harry. There is a large hedge dividing you and Dudley. He can't see you. All you have to do is walk by and not make a single noise..._ His foot landed on the only branch on the pavement, creating a loud crunch. He winced and strained his ears for any sign of Dudley's gang. _Maybe they didn't hear it_, he thought hopefully. He took another step. And then another. Silence. He breathed in relief and continued his brisk pace.

He was only a few blocks away and had just rounded the corner past the park when he heard it. A series of footsteps thudding closer and closer at an alarming rate. Panic blossomed. _Run run run!_

"Where do you think you're going?" smirked Dudley as he stepped out in front of Harry. The younger boy tightened his hands around the little pouch resting in his pocket.

"Home," he answered daringly, his eyes darting around him as Dudley's friends sandwiched him between the hedge and themselves. Dudley grimaced.

"You freak! You don't deserve to call my house your home!" Harry hid the stab of hurt he felt at those words. No matter how many times the Dursleys openly displayed their hatred, somewhere deep within him still flickered a ray of hope that one day they would accept him with open arms.

"There's nowhere you can run now," Dudley hissed, taking a step closer. Harry felt a stab of fear.

"Don't- Don't come any closer! Or I swear Dudley I'll-" His voice choked off.

"You'll what?" The whale-sized boy threatened. Harry's eyes darted to the direction of the sun. A tiny sliver of light still pierced the darkening sky. _No, come on, hurry up! Hurry up hurry up! _hewished fervently. He heard Dudley's friends laugh and crack their knuckles. If he had been a safer distance away, he would have commented on how ridiculous they looked and that they had been watching too many gangster films. If he had been a safer distance away, Harry mused, he wouldn't be in this situation.

"Get him!" He heard Dudley yell. Pressing his back against the hedge, he tried to appear as small and vulnerable as possible.

"Dudley!" He screamed from behind his arms that were shielding his face. "Please, don't do this, I'll do anything! Your homework, anything!" No blows rained upon him. He looked slowly around his arms. Dudley's thugs had stopped mid-way and were comically standing around him with half-raised arms. They were all looking to Dudley uncertainly. He glared at Harry.

"You think I'm dumb enough to fall for that trick, freak? Even if I beat you up, you'll _still_ do my work for me, get it?" Harry took the chance to peer over their shoulders at the sunset again. This time, the sun had sunk below the horizon. He grinned in victory. _Distraction successful._ Piers, one of Dudley's friends, looked a bit hesitant.

"Look, man, he's smiling at us!"

"Who cares, just get him!" Dudley growled.

"You won't be able to touch me, you fat lump," Harry taunted. " I'll move so fast, you won't even be able to _see _me." Dudley roared and charged at him. Harry quickly pulled his hand out of his pocket revealing a small stone he had retrieved from the little bag in his pocket. He clenched his eyes shut and wished with all his might for bright, white light.

-Dawnstone-

Description: A smooth white stone.

Function: Shines white light at required intensity when called upon by the user.

Conditions: Only works after sunset.

Instantly, blinding white rays poured off the small stone, throwing the entire street in high relief. It looked like a mini supernova had erupted in Harry's hand. He heard screams and pained groans as Dudley and his friends stumbled away from him with hands pressing into their eye sockets. Harry laughed softly and wished for the light to turn off. The pressure against his eyelids lifted and he finally opened his eyes again. Several of the boys had curled in on themselves and were rolling around on the ground.

Harry headed to where Dudley was and leaned down to say, "Dear Duddykins, next time you want to gang up on me-" his voice turned menacing, "think again."

**A/N:** Hullo everyone! :D Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed it so far! And in case you're confused about what happened, all will be explained in the next chapter. All you have to do is press the next button ...

PS: Disclaimer on profile page.


	2. Chapter 1 - Wands vs Stones

**This Bag of Stones**

**Chapter 1 – Wand vs. Stones**

Growing up, he could count on one hand the number of people that showed him any form of kindness. This fact would have chilled many others to the bone but in fact, it was the compassion of these very two people that allowed Harry to survive the Dursleys. Thus, he found himself ever grateful and swore at the tender age of 6 that he would protect these people with his life.

The first of them, of course, was Mrs Figg. Harry would later come to realise that it had been Mrs Figg's _duty_ to watch over him on Privet Drive but for now, he was content with the knowledge that his occasional babysitter was also his one safe haven away from No. 4. The second person that stood out in Harry's memory was a little girl he often saw in the park. He recalled rosy cheeks and little pink ribbons. More often than not, the girl was accompanied by at least one over-protective parent. Harry had been struck by their devotion, especially when she was injured or in harm's way. Then he began to wonder, _why don't the Dursleys treat me this way? _

Harry had also noticed that the girl was never approached by other children. In fact, just like him, she was always alone. Fortunately for her, there was the constant presence a parent hovering over her shoulder. He, on the other hand, had no one. Sometimes, he heard whispers and mutterings of other children. As he wasn't included in their conversation, Harry never did understand the full story but he got the general gist of it. To put it simply, the girl came from a lower class family that had barely afforded the cost of living in a place like Surrey. All because of that, her social life was now nil.

One afternoon when Harry had finally managed to snag one of the prized swings, he noticed that the girl had brought along a little black sack. She was running eagerly towards the slides, a wide grin splitting her face. The group of children that were already playing a game of tag (of course, excluding Harry) had immediately scattered. Her face fell. Harry remembered the devastation in her eyes before she managed to pull herself together again. Unfortunately, that moment of distraction was enough to lose her footing and trip flat on her face.

For a moment, there was silence. Then, a laugh. Loud, raucous laughter broke out in waves as the children formed a circle around the girl and laughed at her plight. Harry watched as tears began to pour down her face. The bag had fallen out of her grasp, spilling little shiny pebbles onto the ground.

Dudley, the loudest of them all, picked one of them up. "So what's this?" He blustered. Harry could see that he was feeding off the crowd's attention. Before Harry knew it, he had pushed his way to the front and held out a hand. "Give it to me, Dudley." Unknown to Harry, Dudley was suddenly struck by the steadiness of his emerald gaze. "And what if I don't?" Harry took a step closer, knowing that he'll pay for it later when the parents were not around. "You know what will happen..." he lowered his voice, "Duddykins." His cousin's eyes widened and panic flared. "Don't you dare say that here! I'll kill you!" He panted for a few seconds and looked around before throwing the stone at Harry. "FINE! Take it! It's just a stupid stone anyway!" and stormed off. The crowd slowly dissipated behind him.

One by one, Harry bent down and picked up all the stones, admiring their texture as he gathered them in the palm of his hand. Once he reached the girl, he held out a hand and pulled her up. She stared at him gratefully as he returned the stones to the bag and handed it back to her. "Are you alright?" he asked. She nodded slowly and glanced down at the bag before meeting his gaze again. "My momma told me these stones were magical," she said looking meaningfully at him before promptly bolting. Harry stared after her in shock yelling, "Hey! You forgot your stones!"

She didn't turn back but merely waved a hand at him. "Keep it!" The girl wouldn't know it then but her words would have irrevocably changed Harry's future.

* * *

Harry awoke suddenly, blinking the spots away from his eyes. He made a move to sit up. As he did so, a large, furry object covering him fell away. It was an oversized coat. This observation triggered a series of memories from the previous day's events: the shack, the storm, Hagrid and Dudley's newly acquired pig's tail. Today was the day he would get his first taste of the Wizarding World. Today, they were going to Diagon Alley. A slow, wide smile spread across Harry's face.

Before long, they found themselves in front of Ollivanders Wand Shop. Harry was beyond excited and began imagining all sorts of magical items. _Perhaps they sold stones that could conjure food_, he thought happily. He casted his mind back to the memory of Hagrid using his umbrella to speed up the boat. _Maybe a stone that can make me fast? No, no , a stone that can do my homework! _A bell jingled from the depths of the shop, jostling Harry from his daydream.

He eagerly perused the shelves as he looked for items that would catch his eye. To his confusion, his eyes only met stacks of long, rectangular boxes. _Are the stones in the boxes?_ He thought to himself, puzzled. _Maybe there's more than one stone in a box? _

"Good afternoon," a soft voice said from the darkness.

"Hello," Harry replied.

"Ah yes," he said. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." There was something disturbing in the way others knew his name before he introduced himself, Harry decided.

"You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work." _Swishy? _he thought. _Stones can't swish! _A strange feeling fell over Harry, one he didn't quite understand. He only knew that the following conversation was going to change everything he believed in.

He didn't know how right he was.

* * *

They walked away from the wand shop, Hagrid happily laden with Harry's school items while Harry himself was staring in disbelief at his wand. _This stick, this _wand _does magic? _He thought incredulously. _It does everything? Without a stone? _

"Hagrid?," Harry suddenly asked.

"What's up?" Hagrid answered cheerfully.

"Is this normal?" He held up the wand.

Hagrid looked taken aback. "Why, o' course it's normal! Blimey, Harry, yeh gotta forget bout those Dursleys!" He mumbled something rude under his breath.

"What was that?" Harry peered up at him.

"Nothin' yeh need ta know, Harry. Now go on, an' don' yeh go worryin' what others be sayin'. Yeh just worry bout Hogwarts an' makin' friends." Harry smiled and nodded. On the inside however, he had arrived at a very important conclusion. The Wizarding World had _no idea _about his magical stones. And that was the way he wanted it. Living with the Dursleys had taught him enough about placing his trust in people prematurely and he wasn't about to commit the same mistakes again. Unconsciously, his hand reached down and brushed the bag of stones in his pocket. This will be the ace up his sleeve.

He looked around, picking out details that he hadn't really taken note of before. The wizard in the corner brandishing his wand at a rather vicious looking book. A witch levitating a large cupboard behind her as passersby gave her a large berth. Harry couldn't believe that he had missed all the signs that pointed to magical people not using stones as he initially thought but _wands _instead. A rush of memories poured into his mind: the equipment list that mentioned 1 _wand_, Hagrid telling him about buying a _wand_, the boy at Madam Malkin's mentioned buying a _wand_ and finally the cherry on top, Ollivanders _Wand _Shop. He had simply bypassed this multitude of warning signals because he had assumed that everyone had the same ability to use stones as he did. _Or any other item really_, Harry thought as he flicked a glance to Hagrid's umbrella.

The moment they arrived back at No. 4, Harry rushed to his room and immediately surrounded himself with his first year books. Day after day he spent reading furiously through his syllabus, almost desperate to find any information regarding his stones. None was forthcoming. Almost a week later, he closed the last of his books with a sigh. He had managed to read all his books, finding A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot especially fascinating.

His owl, named Hedwig from a particularly interesting part of said book, had taken to staying out most of the nights. Harry had hoped she would be able to take care of herself as he was sure Dursleys wouldn't even spare a thought for her. He sighed. Keeping her away from the Dursley household was probably for the best but it didn't erase the fact that he missed her already. As his only magical companion, Hedwig was a lot more than just a post owl to Harry. She was his first friend as well.

He had thought he understood magic when he found out the uses of his stones. Then Hagrid had come along and solidified his suspicions of other people like him existing. He had been glad, overjoyed even, only to have his bubble burst when he realised that even in the Wixarding World he was a 'freak'. He couldn't even do magic the way wizards were supposed to use wands. Harry picked up his wand. 11 inches of holly wood and phoenix feather as a core. He swished it around akin to what he did in the wand shop and wished he didn't feel so silly. Nothing happened.

Frustration. Annoyance. Irritation. Anger. Harry fought the rising tide of emotions, trying to regain the calmness he recalled feeling when using his stones. His stones. Harry carefully placed the wand aside and reached for the familiar bag of stones. Pulling open the worn drawstring, he gently emptied the bag onto the bed. Approximately a dozen stones tumbled out. Some were small and some were larger. Some shone with bright colours while others were monotonous. To Harry's experienced eyes, he was able to immediately pick out which type of stone was which. In fact, he knew every inch of every single pebble by touch and could probably identify them in his sleep.

The pebbles, as Dudley had experienced, bore magical properties that allowed Harry to work magic in specific ways. They didn't have the flexibility of the wand in making different sort of spells. They couldn't perform more than one function. Most of them required certain conditions to work. They were definitely not as convenient as carrying around a wand. Yet, Harry wouldn't give them up for the world.

* * *

Trees flashed past in a green blur. Harry thought he could smell the fresh pine on the air but then decided it was merely his imagination when he noticed that the Hogwarts Express' windows were closed. Ron sat across from him, munching on a Chocolate Frog without much thought. The conversation had fallen silent and Harry was now becoming slightly uncomfortable. He wondered if that girl, Hermione, would return. _Did they find Neville's toad? Should I have helped? _Harry patted his bag of stones as casually as possible so that Ron wouldn't suspect anything. After his rather abysmal spellwork at attempting to turn his pet rat yellow, Harry began to doubt the skills of his new 'friend'.

After all, Harry had only been exposed to the existence of the Wizarding World for a handful of weeks in comparison to Ron's entire lifetime spent amongst magic yet even he knew that what Ron recited was not a spell. Surely he had at least _heard _his parents perform spells before. Now in Hermione however, he had found a kindred soul. Like him, she had also read the entire syllabus in anticipation of her magical adventure. Looking back at their conversation critically, Harry realised that he could draw more parallels with the bushy-haired girl than with Ron. In that instant, he made a split-second decision to search the girl out immediately after arriving at Hogwarts.

As it turned out, there was no need to. Draco Malfoy's intrusion into their compartment left a sour taste in Harry's mouth. _I thought I was coming to Hogwarts to escape the prejudiced world of Muggles. Now look what I've gotten myself into. _Hermione's arrival was a welcome distraction at that point.

"What has been going on?" she asked suspiciously, looking at the mess Malfoy and his bodyguards had made. Harry followed her gaze to the scattered pile of sweets he had purchased from the cart and at Ron who was picking Scabbers up from where Goyle had thrown him.

"Just a bit of an accident," Harry said affably. "Did you find Neville's toad?"

"No," she sighed, looking worried. Harry shifted guiltily, his hand brushing the pocket where the stones were kept. Acting on instinct, he quickly reached in and grabbed the most appropriate stone. At the first touch, he could immediately feel its effects working on hastening his brain's processing.

-Witstone-

Description: A light gray pebble peppered with minuscule white spots. Slightly rough texture.

Function: Increases cognitive and memory skills for an hour.

Conditions: Turns cold when an hour is up. Does not require continuous tactile contact. Limited to 2-3 uses per day otherwise the user develops a headache.

He directed his mind to the mystery of Neville's lost toad. "Did you check damp and dark places?"

She nibbled her lip. "Damp and dark... the bathroom! Oh, you're a genius!" Her face fell. "But it's too late! I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there."

"What are you doing here anyway?" Ron asked abrasively. She looked annoyed.

"Well, I was just going to tell you to put your robes on!" She sniffed. "I can see I'm not welcome."

"Ah yes, thank you," Harry said hastily, glaring at Ron for riling her up. "And no, it's not too late. Why don't I just change first them I'll help you check the bathroom?" Hermione stared at him for several seconds.

"Okay." She seemed a bit surprised that he volunteered to help her. "But you better hurry!" she added as she left the compartment and closed the door behind her. Ron turned to Harry.

"Mate, why'd you do that? Now she won't leave us alone!" he complained. Harry looked at him curiously.

"Why's that a bad thing?"

Ron gaped at him and said, "She's a bossy little know-it-all!" Harry's face hardened at his words.

"I came to Hogwarts intending to make as many friends as I can. If you're going to get in the way of that, then I suggest you stay out of my way. Now if you'll please excuse me..." he turned his back on the speechless Ron and began to rummage through his luggage. A few minutes later, he pulled the door open and spotted Hermione several compartments down, eagerly interviewing one of the prefects. Said prefect looked a little ruffled and struggling to answer some of her rapid-fire questions.

"What does the Great Hall look like? I know about the floating candles, the four tables and the enchanted ceiling of course, I read it in Hogwarts: A History but I imagine it feels quite amazing sitting there amongst-"

Harry chuckled and made a beeline for the poor bombarded prefect. "Hermione," he announced behind her shoulder. She whirled around.

"Harry!" He saw the prefect perk up.

"Harry? As in the Harry Potter?" His good mood faltered.

"Yeees, but no," he said hoping to confuse the prefect for a few crucial seconds. "Oh look at the time, wow it really flies, well gotta go, places to be people to meet, nice meeting you, hope we can talk again later!" he rushed in a single breath. By then, he had grabbed a hold of Hermione's elbow and pulled her down the corridor in the direction of the bathrooms.

"I was talking to him!" she said outraged and tried to pull her elbow from his grasp. He didn't relinquish his hold.

"No, you were talking _at _him." He registered a flash of hurt in her eyes before she masked it with an affronted expression.

"How dare you! Let go of me! Let go of me, you!" He held a hand up to stop her.

"No, look I'm sorry that came out the wrong way. I shouldn't have said that. I apologize for my carelessness and only hope for your forgiveness." He bowed at her, his eyes grave and serious. Her mouth opened and closed.

"I-er. Of, of course you're forgiven!"she said in a rather panicked tone, remembering that it was _Harry Potter_ that was begging for her forgiveness.

"Hermione," he said gently. The Witstone was pushing him to make this conversation as soon as possible. "I understand that you mean the best but your attitude is sometimes too much for others to handle." She looked at him uncertainly. Harry knew that in that very moment, he had the power to change her entire outlook on life. _Lucky the effects of the Witstone are still working. _

"I- I know that sometimes it annoys people but it's just so FRUSTRATING! I mean, what if they're doing it all _wrong_ and I can help them or what if I've got questions- my parents always told me to ask no matter how stupid a question may seem," she began to babble.

"Hermione, listen!" They pulled up in front of the bathroom doors. "Look, it's fine if they asked for your help but would you want someone else to butt into your business if you don't want them to?"

She looked mulish. "I'd be happy if someone wanted to help me with a problem I had." Harry sighed.

"Okay, let's look at it this way. Say you've got this riddle you absolutely have to solve. Someone else in the room gets it straightaway but you want to figure it out by yourself. This other person doesn't even allow you a chance and spoils the whole thing for you. How would you feel?"

She stared at him, a small frown creasing her forehead. "I...I never thought of it that way. I guess you're right... but if they ask for my help, I won't hold back!" she announced. Harry smiled victoriously.

"That's all I ask for." He glanced at the two doors. "You check the girls' bathroom and I check the boys'?" She nodded and pushed open the appropriate door. Turning to the boys' bathroom, Harry pushed the door open and peered in. He hoped with all his might that he was right. Before he had the chance to step in, Hermione slammed the other door open. Sitting primly in the middle of her cupped hands was the adventurous toad.

"Harry! I found him! I found Trevor!" she breathed excitedly. He smiled at her.

"I knew you could do it!" She averted her eyes and pinked slightly.

"I couldn't have done it without you," she mumbled. Harry grinned. His heightened senses from the stone recognised that this was an excellent bonding moment. He ignored the thought and gestured down the corridor.

"Shall we find the owner?"

* * *

They entered the Great Hall, gasping in awe at its beauty. Hermione was standing at his side while the sulking Ron stood slightly behind him. Next to Hermione, Neville was dithering between trying to take in all the sights while keeping a hold on Trevor.

"The ceiling is beautiful," Harry murmured, his neck craned upwards.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History," Hermione whispered back. Neville simply nodded distractedly. Harry gazed at the velvety black sky, melancholically thinking of his parents seated below this very ceiling. Before he knew it, the Sorting Hat had finished its song and the Sorting had already started.

Harry watched nervously from the crowd as first "Granger, Hermione" was sorted into Gryffindor as was "Longbottom, Neville." Finally, his turn arrived. "Potter, Harry," announced Professor McGonagall as she sternly looked at him over her glasses.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

Without the calming influence of the Witstone, he would have probably turned tail and run back out the double doors. Instead, he straightened his back, and stepped away from the protective circle of other first years. He began the long walk up the aisle, clearly feeling the burning gazes of every single person in the room. Before long, the tattered leather brim of the hat fell over his eyes and he heard a deep, loud voice echo in his mind.

_What's this? _

He blinked. Assuming the voice was the Sorting Hat, surely it would be able to identify that he was a student. _Is something wrong? _

_Yes... _the voice sounded hesitant and slightly worried. _There seems to be an outside influence on your mind. _

_Oh! _Harry realised, thankful that it wasn't something worse. _That. It's just the Witstone, nothing to worry about. _

_Nothing to worry about, huh? _Harry could practically feel the Sorting Hat lift its eyebrows. _Yes. I see what you mean. _

_This won't affect my Sorting, will it? _Harry suddenly thought worriedly.

_At first sight I would have sworn you were Ravenclaw herself. But now that I look closer though... _The Sorting Hat hummed. _Yes. I can see friends are important to you... I guess I have no choice- better be GRYFFINDOR!_

Harry grinned and hurried off to join Hermione and Neville.

**A/N:** Hi all! I hope my explanation of the stones uses wasn't too complicated. Essentially, he acquired the stones from the girl in the playground and when she told him that they were magical, he believed it. Since he actually DID have magic, he managed to get the stones to work and the rest, as they say, is history.


	3. Chapter 2 - First Class

**This Bag of Stones**

**Chapter 2 – First Class**

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the girl with bushy hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

Harry sighed as yet another crowd of students fought to get a good look at him. They were now lining up for their first Potions class of the year. The other classes had been a mix of emotions for Harry – worried that his magic wouldn't work for him and glad that he was not alone in learning magic for the first time. Hermione has shown no restraints whatsoever and excelled in everything that was given to her. Harry, on the other hand, remembered how nervous he was during his first class: Transfiguration.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said with a stern glare. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

When she had assigned them to turn matches into needles, Harry felt his stomach drop. None of his stones could do that. Even though he knew it would be better if he kept his unique form of magic a secret, he couldn't help but wish there were others who suffered the same affliction as him. The closest who could come to empathising with him was Neville, who seemed to struggle with his spell and was dangerously waving his wand around. Looking closer, Harry noticed that Neville was acting rather distant with his wand in comparison to Hermione, whose wand acted as the extension of her right arm. His own experiences with his stones only served to further convince him that there was nothing wrong with Neville's magic but with the tool he was using to express it- the wand.

However, Harry decided against telling him at that moment. Instead, he joined the rest of the class as they attempted to perform magic with their wand for the first time. Unlike his stones, the wand felt ungainly and clumsy. He wished that instead of a stick, he was holding one of his stones instead. When Hermione finally managed the transformation, he clapped and cheered for her, genuinely happy for his friend. While the rest of the class was distracted, he dropped a hand into his robes and felt for the stone he thought would be most helpful.

_I need a needle._ In a faint swoosh, the match disappeared and was replaced by a shiny, pointy silver needle.

-Swapstone-

Description: Tinged with pale yellow streaks. One of the heavier stones.

Function: Swaps an object with the desired object.

Conditions: The desired object has to be in the user's possesion in the first place.

Harry grinned and drew his hand back out of the bag of stones, knowing that somewhere in his trunk, there now lay a match in the place of a needle.

"Look, Harry did it too!" yelled a voice excitedly. Hermione glanced at his needle and up at him in delight.

"You did it, Harry!" She beamed. Professor McGonagall looked impressed.

"Two students from the same class, well done the both of you! I think this deserves... 5 points each to Gryffindor," she said with a rare smile. Hermione gasped while Harry just grinned.

Now however, his euphoria at using the stones unnoticed had dissipated under the anxiety of facing the intimidating Potions Professor. He racked his brains desperately to recall if Potions required use of a wand. His fellow first-years were more hushed than usual, talking to each other in undertones. A feeling of trepidation hung in the air and it became increasingly obvious that his classmates had been listening to the older years.

"-like a bat _swooping _around-" Seamus exclaimed.

"My brothers told me he's nothing but a greasy git," Ron boasted to the group of students that were listening to him. He puffed his chest a little, proud that having older siblings at Hogwarts meant that others who didn't know much would come to him for insider information. Hermione observed the little gathering and huffed, bringing her arms across her chest angrily.

"They shouldn't be talking about Professor Snape like that," she grumbled to Harry and Neville.

"I'm terrified of him too," Neville admitted shyly. Hermione looked at him impatiently.

"Neville, he's a professor, he can't do anything to hurt you!"

"I won't be too sure about that," Harry muttered, recalling the professor's hate-filled stare at him in the Great Hall at the Sorting Feast. Now it was his turn to be berated by Hermione.

"Harry! How can you say that?" He simply sighed.

"I just don't have a good feeling about the next two hours, Hermione." He inconspicuously reached down for his bag and grasped the Witstone. He'd need all his wits about him to survive the next hour.

They got called in and had barely settled their bags on the floor when Professor Snape swooped past, his black robes billowing behind him. Seamus and Dean sniggered quietly, to Hermione's great annoyance. She stiffened and bit her lip. With the effects of the Witstone, Harry quickly understood that Hermione had taken his words in the train to heart and that was the only thing stopping her from turning around and rebuking the pair. He gave her an encouraging smile and was rewarded when she relaxed slightly.

"Ah, yes," Professor Snape said as he reached Harry's name in the roll, "Harry Potter. Our new — celebrity." Harry winced. It looked like he was right about Professor Snape's animosity.

He continued on calling the rest of the roll, ending in a rousing speech about Potions. Harry could clearly see the professor's passion for his subject. For a second, his respect rose. Then Snape spoke again.

"Potter!" he snapped. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry's brain worked frantically, churning out phrases and passages from books he remembered reading those many afternoons ago in his bedroom. Hermione's hand shot straight into the air but she was ignored. Finally, Harry lifted his gaze to meet Snape's glittering black eyes.

"The Draught of Living Death, sir," he answered quietly. Hermione's hand dropped. The professor seemed slightly surprised at his answer. There was a flicker of something in his eyes but it was too quick for Harry to catch. _Regret? What was there to regret? _

He sneered at the class. "Looks like at least one of you dunderheads have been reading." His eyes spotted a promising prey. "Weasley! Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Ron jumped at the sudden attention. "I- I don't know, sir," he stuttered, his face flaming in embarrassment. Hermione's hand leapt up again. Harry merely sighed in relief that the professor's attention had left him.

"Tut, tut — this must be the famed Weasley curse; nothing but the meagre pickings of your older siblings' leftovers." Ron's ears turned bright red. Draco Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle snorted in laughter. Hermione's hand fell to her side limply. She seemed rather shocked that the professor would insult a student. "1 point from Gryffindor for not reading the textbook before coming to class!"

"Longbottom!" Snape seemed to take delight in his new victim's obvious fear. Neville's knees shook so hard the table he was sitting at began to tremble as well. "Settle down, boy, I'm not going to eat you!" Snape said with a wolfish smirk.

Harry looked at him piteously and quickly made the decision to help him. He pulled the Witstone out of the bag and reached over to Neville who was sitting beside him, shielding the stone from sight with his hand. Touching the boy on his arm casually as if to calm him, Harry brushed the stone against Neville's skin. Immediately, he could feel the effect of the Witstone fade from his own mind as it began working on calming Neville's nerves. Harry smiled secretly when he saw Neville's tremors slow and his shoulders droop slightly. He stowed away the stone before anyone could point it out.

"Yes, sir?" Neville asked, his voice only squeaking slightly at the end.

"Tell me, Longbottom, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Neville looked thoughtful for a few seconds before saying in a rather confused tone," Ah sir, aren't they the same plant?" Harry closed his eyes in relief, glad that Neville's love for plants had paid off. In the week that they had known each other, the boy's love for all things green and good was clear to see.

Snape's face morphed into a mask of frustration. "I do the asking around here, Longbottom."

Neville gulped and corrected himself. "Sorry sir, yes sir." He took a deep breath and said, "Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant. They're also known as aconite," he rushed out. Snape looked slightly dissatisfied but gave a short dismissive nod.

"Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?" he snapped at the rest of the class. Harry joined the rest of his classmates as they hurriedly pulled out their quill and parchment to take notes.

The rest of the lesson proceeded as well as a first-year Potions class ever could. Neville was almost exemplary for the first half of the lesson as he carefully followed the instructions for the cure for boils potion. However, his attention began to falter in the second half of the Double Potions lesson and Harry recognised the effects of the Witstone wearing off. He was reluctant to use it again on Neville because he was unused to it and being suddenly affected by a double dosage in such a short time could negatively impact on him. In doing so, he doomed Neville into finally tripping up when it was time to add the porcupine quills.

"Idiot boy!" Snape was furious as he cleared the mess and directed Neville to the hospital wing when painful boils sprung up on his skin.

He whirled to point accusingly at Harry who was sitting next to Neville. "You — Potter — why didn't you tell him not to add the quills too early? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's 1 point from Gryffindor!"

Harry stopped Hermione from objecting. "It's alright Hermione. He's right. I should have looked out for Neville." He looked up at Professor Snape, who was observing him with a slightly bemused expression. "I'm sorry for failing Neville, sir. Next time, I promise to watch him more carefully."

Snape grunted and hovered over him for a few more seconds before turning away in a swirl of black robes.

After class, Hermione whirled on him immediately and demanded, "Why did you apologise, Harry? He shouldn't have done that! You couldn't have watched out for Neville while making your own potion!" Hermione cried, outraged.

"Hermione," Harry said patiently. "Weren't you the one that insisted on respecting your elders? Anyway, Professor Snape was right. We should all look out for each other, especially since we're new to this and other people might spot something we've missed," he explained.

Hermione looked appeased by his words but still said in a sulking tone, "You're too nice, Harry."

Harry laughed her statement away and proposed that they visit Neville in the hospital wing. Unknown to Hermione, another battle was taking place in Harry's mind. For in fact, it was his guilt over his decision not to expose Neville to the Witstone again that made him agree with Snape's accusation in class. _I could have prevented this. I could have saved him. I should have, why didn't I use it again? I was selfish! Stupid Harry!_

As he agonised over his selfish decision to keep the Witstone to himself, he made a silent promise to never let anything get in the way of helping others, even if it called for the revelation of his stones.

"Harry? Come on already! Neville could have left by the time we arrive there!" Hermione called out, impatiently tapping her foot. Harry's head jerked up and he smiled at her, feeling the traces of guilt disappear as he hurried to catch up with her and tease her eagerness in answering Snape's questions earlier that day.

**A/N: **Hello! Hope you enjoyed it so far :D Harry has decided to keep the stones a secret because he doesn't want to be any more different from others. And in case you haven't realised the possibilities of the stones, imagine how different his first year could have been if he had a select amount of power that can't be used by anyone else. Since the wizards and witches are so dependent on their wand, the very concept of using another item as a conduit for their magic would be considered alien. Also, because Harry has been depending on his stones from young, he can't get his head around using a wand instead. Hope that clears up any confusion! Thanks for the reviews, by the way. Any feedback is great!


	4. Chapter 3 - Neville's Suspicions

**This Bag of Stones**

**Chapter 3 – Neville's Suspicions**

"What do you think about Hagrid's reaction when I asked him about the Gringotts break-in?" mused Harry aloud. They had managed to snag a prime spot on the rug near the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. Neville was lying flat on his stomach flipping idly through One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi whereas Hermione was trying her best to write the longest essay known to mankind.

"What do you think, Hermione?" Harry rolled over until he bumped into her leg.

"Leave off Harry, I'm busy," she said distractedly.

"Merlin, Hermione, the Transfiguration homework was 10 inches not a foot!" he pointed at the roll of parchment spooling at the other end of the table. Neville looked up.

"I'm just being detailed," Hermione said crossly. "And stop exaggerating; it's not that long!"

"Blimey Hermione," Neville said as he scanned the first few paragraphs. "This is fantastic!" He looked suitably impressed.

Hermione flushed and muttered, "It's nothing. I can write more."

"But you're not going to," Harry said, tugging the parchment away from her and Neville and rolling it up. "Instead, you're going to be a good friend and listen to my dilemma." She sighed and gave him a hard stare.

"I can see you're not going to let me work in peace anymore." He grinned at her and ran a hand through his hair abashedly. She melted in acquiescence and set her quill and ink away.

"Right let's get this sorted, shall we? Harry, why do you think Hagrid's hiding something?" she began after settling down comfortably next to Neville. Harry straightened and lowered his voice.

"Remember that article in the Daily Prophet? The Gringotts break-in? I'm absolutely positive that the burglar was after the package Hagrid took out the day he took me there!" He finished triumphantly. Hermione bit her lip uncertainly.

"That sounds rather far-fetched, even for you Harry." She held up a hand to stop his protests. "BUT, let's say you're right and he brought the package here as Professor Dumbledore ordered. We know it's obviously an important object and one the Headmaster wants to keep a secret. What in Merlin's name could it be?"

Neville suddenly jerked up. "Don't you think it's strange that the third floor is restricted?" Harry nodded in agreement.

"What?" Hermione flicked her gaze between the both of them. "You- you're not saying that's the reason it's blocked off, are you?"

"Exactly," Harry said solemnly. A chilling silence fell on the trio. One by one, their gazes turned to the flickering flames, feeling as if the only warmth left in the room lay dancing on those red hot embers.

* * *

That following Thursday morning, the first-year Gryffindors woke up to a bright and sunny morning.

"Flying lessons with the Slytherins! How bad can this day get!" Ron ranted, punctuating the air with stabs of his fork.

"This-is- a- nightmare!" He hollered as he grabbed more rashers off the platter. "Pass the salt, Seamus." He did not notice the slow inching of his mates away from him and his eating habits.

"Honestly. He shouldn't be talking bad about his classmates so loudly," Hermione complained quietly to Neville and Harry who had accompanied her to the Great Hall for breakfast. They settled a safe distance away from Ron and began to load their plates.

"He didn't make this much of a fuss when we had Potions with the Slytherins," she noted.

"Well, I guess you're excused from not knowing because you don't share a dorm with him." Harry said sharing an eye roll with Neville. She threw them a baffled look.

"Ron's obsessed with Quidditch. It's all he talks about in the dorms," explained Neville. Hermione's face cleared.

"Well, it's _just_ flying. It doesn't sound very productive at all. I'd rather go to the library," she said haughtily.

"Aren't you even curious?" Harry asked after helping himself to some hash browns. She didn't answer for some time.

"It's flying. On what is basically a stick."

"Oh, but it's not _just_ a stick, young Miss Granger-" Fred Weasley said swooping down behind them.

"It's THE stick." George joined them, casually snatching up the bacon that Harry had saved for Hedwig.

"Hey!" Harry cried indignantly but couldn't help breaking into a large grin at their antics. The Weasley twins never failed to make him laugh. In fact, he greatly preferred their company over that of the younger Weasley at the moment.

"That smooth wood-" Fred began dreamily.

"Polished with the best wax-" George's eyes grew misty.

"With specially carved runes-"

"And the most aerodynamic bristles-"

"For the guaranteed best-"

"Ride of your life." They winked as one.

"Whaddya think of that, Hermione?" Fred said, draping an arm over her shoulder. She stiffened and closed the heavy tome she had in her lap.

"I think it's rubbish," she sniffed.

Before anymore could be said, a large tawny barn owl delivered a package in front of Neville. He excitedly pulled out a small smoky orb that slowly turned a brilliant scarlet in his hands.

"It's a Remembrall!" Hermione exclaimed. "I remembered reading about them; they turn red when you've forgotten something." They all threw knowing looks at Neville.

"Let's go Neville. There's no point in wasting time now. We might as well get some work done early on so we can relax after flying lessons."

Neville nodded, looking woebegone. "Alright, Harry."

* * *

"Neville!" Hermione screamed in horror as the pudgy boy rose in the air unsteadily. Harry dropped the broom he had been holding and automatically reached for his bag of stones but it was too late. Poor Neville- pale as a sheet- had slipped and fallen off his broom. They all heard a sickening crack when he landed wrongly.

Harry and Hermione rushed forward to help but were chased away by Madam Hooch who had already helped Neville up.

"Stay here! None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'," she said sternly. Then her eyes caught sight of their worried faces and her expression softened.

"Madam Pomfrey will have him right in a jiffy."

"Look!" They heard Malfoy's voice exclaim as soon as the flying instructor was out of sight. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." Harry groaned inwardly when he saw Malfoy hoist the Remembrall in the air.

"It's not yours," Hermione said crossly. His face twisted into an ugly sneer.

"What are you going to do about it... Mudblood?" The young Slytherin hopped on his broom and appeared to fly with ease.

"Come and get it if you want it so bad!" He taunted. Hermione looked unsure between following the professor's orders and helping her friend out. Harry however, had no such inhibitions.

He made a snap decision and quickly reached for the stone he was looking for: the Wingstone. With its ability to make any item fly, Harry could easily have taken control of Malfoy's broom and brought it back. Instead, he decided to turn the tables a little. He eyed the branch of a nearby oak tree and concentrated deeply on what he wanted to happen.

-Wingstone-

Description: A pebble gray stone. The lightest stone. Makes hollow sounds when knocked.

Function: Makes the user or any desired item fly or levitate in any direction.

Conditions: The user must be holding the stone the whole time.

Just as Hermione began to swing her leg over her broom, the branch behind Malfoy gave a little, almost unseen jerk. No one except Harry, who had been looking for it, spotted the movement. The motion caused the tree to brush against the back of Malfoy's broom, throwing him forward. Smiling grimly, Harry added the final touch: the Remembrall slipped out of Malfoy's hands and flew in a glorious arc towards the ground. The shocked look on Malfoy's face made Neville's tumble almost worth it. Hermione dropped the broom and raced forward, catching the little sphere neatly with both her hands.

She looked up at Malfoy, hey eyes twinkling. "Oh, Malfoy! How sweet, you helped pick it up for me to give to Neville! I knew there was good in you after all!" Harry released the Wingstone and grinned.

"Wow Malfoy, you've really put me in a tight spot here." He shook his head despairingly. "I'm really regretting turning down your hand of friendship that day on the train." He saw Hermione's head whip in his direction and tried to look as reassuring as possible while keeping up the act at the same time.

"I didn't mean- wait, what?" Malfoy spluttered from his broom. "You... want to be friends with me?" He said in disbelief. Harry nodded sagely.

"Just looking at your actions makes me so envious that I didn't think of it earlier. In fact, I think you deserve some reward!" He looked eagerly at the still-stunned crowd of first years. "Come on everyone! Clap!" Bursting out in loud, over-enthusiastic applause, he was soon joined by Hermione and one by one, the clapping was taken up by everyone.

It was this scene that Madam Hooch walked back into. There were students from Gryffindor and Slytherin alike clapping and cheering for Malfoy who was hovering several feet in the air with a gobsmacked expression. For a few seconds, she had to stop and stare at the significant lack of animosity between the two Houses. She finally managed to regain her composure after gaping at the cheering students and called out angrily, "What is the meaning of this? Mr Malfoy! Get down here at once!" The boy in question winced and immediately disembarked but he didn't look cowed at all. In fact, he was taking the opportunity to bask in the attention raining on him. Madam Hooch noted the youngest Weasley boy standing off to the side alone with a sour expression.

"Follow me," she said coldly to Malfoy when he emerged from the circle of admirers that had gathered around him. His grin slowly slipped from his face when he saw how serious she was. As she turned and headed back into the castle, she heard Potter yell out after them, "Neville will be so grateful when I tell him you helped!" From the corner of her eye, she noticed a twisted grimace on Malfoy's face followed by an uncertain look that made her almost pity his dilemma.

After they were dismissed, the duo headed for the hospital wing, eager to see Neville and update him on the day's events. They spotted him sitting on the edge of one of the beds gingerly twisting his wrist slowly. He looked up at the sound of their entrance and his face brightened.

"Harry! Hermione!"

"Shush!" Madam Pomfrey scolded, barrelling out of her office.

Neville looked at her warily and continued softly, "You came!"

"Of course we came, Neville. Did you think we'd forget our friend when he's injured?" He smiled weakly at Hermione's statement.

"We brought you something!" Harry revealed the Remembrall from behind his back, grinning from ear to ear.

"My Remembrall! I totally forgot!"

"We know," Hermione smirked. "And you'll never guess who gave it to us." Neville's face scrunched up.

"Who?"

"Malfoy did!" Harry said excitedly, earning himself a sharp look from Madam Pomfrey.

"Malfoy did," he repeated more quietly.

"You'll catch flies!" Hermione laughingly lifted Neville's jaw back up with her index finger.

"Malfoy?" he said looking incredulous. "The Draco Malfoy who struts around like he owns the place?" They nodded.

"But...why?" He looked crestfallen.

The mattress dipped as Hermione sat next to him. "Let's just say he had a change of heart."

They talked for a while more before evening fell and it was time for dinner. Madam Pomfrey insisted on Neville staying until at least after dinner so Harry and Hermione were forced to leave early without him. They left Neville sitting on his bed staring contemplatively at the Remembrall, promising to spend more time together when he was finally released.

_Harry said Malfoy gave Hermione the Remembrall. Why would he suddenly do that? _Neville mused. _He hates my guts. Is this one of those 'mysterious events' again? _He dredged up the memory of his first Potions class and how terrified he had been at first when Professor Snape called on him. Then, Harry had reached out and something smooth and cool brushed his skin. Somehow it had given him the courage and intelligence to answer Snape's question. Neville knew that without whatever it is that Harry did, he wouldn't have managed to even string together a comprehensive sentence let alone give the correct answer.

_There's something about Harry that's different, _Neville decided and shrugged the issue away. Harry was his friend which meant accepting anything that came along with him. And Neville would rather have a unique friend as opposed to none at all. It helped that the three of them got along well together with Hermione taking the unofficial position of a leader while Harry and Neville were content to follow.

This was something that had changed Neville's initial opinion on the Boy-Who-Lived: that Harry enjoyed working from the background and despised the limelight. Sometimes, he felt like he dragged the bright duo down. With Hermione's impressive intellect and Harry's ability to catch onto spells quickly, Neville often felt like a third wheel. Whenever that happened, the other two would always know and turn to him with a joke or a question and make him feel alive once more. When Madam Pomfrey came to release Neville, she spotted a faraway look in his eyes and a faint smile hovering over his mouth. If she could read minds, she would have learnt of the vow Neville made to never turn his back or abandon his two friends.

**A/N:** Hey everyone! Hope you enjoyed "Neville's Suspicions"! Did I portray the shy, quiet Longbottom heir well? In my story, I'm trying to make Neville become more confident a lot more quicker due to the influence of his two best friends and this will hopefully change many things that happen to him in the future. Oh, and since Malfoy didn't rile Harry up, there will be no Quidditch or midnight duel for him. Of course, this also means that they don't discover the third floor...

In JK Rowling's books, I always had a sense that Harry was the 'leader' being the BWL and all that. However, he feels like a more introverted person to me whereas Hermione is more outspoken and not afraid to do what she believes in. Therefore throughout the course of the story, you will notice that Hermione is more of the spokesperson and Harry just steps in when it gets out-of-hand. If you keep reading, that is. :)


	5. Chapter 4 - Revelations

**This Bag of Stones**

**Chapter 4 - Revelations**

Charms class on Halloween day had proceeded almost similarly to Transfiguration with the learning of the Levitation Charm, Wingardium Leviosa. While Harry merely copied the movements of other students and repeated the Latin phrase over and over again rather dispiritedly, Hermione was eager to be the first student to succeed. Of course, with a swish and a flick of her wand, she easily managed to do so. When Professor Flitwick was distracted by praising her skills, Harry slipped his hand into the bag and grabbed the stone he needed.

Immediately, he felt his body become lighter and his feet begin to lift from the ground. _Not me! The feather!_ He demanded to the Wingstone, panicking. He landed back on his feet and looked around surreptitiously in case any other students had noticed his momentary flight. No one did. _Concentrate Harry._ One of the drawbacks of using the Wingstone was that while it was being used, Harry had to focus all his attention on the object that he desired to fly. Having to hold it the whole time also made it hard to hide from other students. Slowly but surely, he erased all other thoughts from his mind and concentrated solely on the long feather on his desk.

The feather jerked upwards alarmingly before easing into a smooth flight and floated higher in the air until it matched Hermione's. Harry grinned euphorically at her and silently commanded the feather to nudge hers. He made sure that his wand matched the movements of the feather. His left hand was still holding the stone, rolling it around in the palm of his hand under the desk so that no one would see it.

"Harry!" Hermione squealed. "You too!" She masterfully manipulated her wand to gently spin her feather around his. Professor Flitwick clapped happily and looked like he could topple over in a faint in joy.

"Oh my! Oh I say! This is marvellous! Absolutely marvellous! 10 points each! 10 points each to Gryffindor!" Harry and Hermione shared thrilled smiles with each other. The professor walked away shaking his head in disbelief. "2 Gryffindors! In no more than 5 minutes! Why, it's a new record!"

"Well done, guys! I knew you'd be amazing!" Neville congratulated them. Harry looked closely at his friend's open face.

"You'll get it too, Nev." As it turned out, he had hit the nail on the head. Neville shifted uncomfortably and looked away.

"I'm not so sure about that myself," he laughed nervously.

"Here, Neville," Hermione stepped in impatiently. "You were saying it wrong. It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long." Seeing that she had it under control, Harry slowly let the feather drift down and returned the Wingstone to the bag. While he was distracted, he didn't notice Ron lean over from the table behind and say loudly, "Oh leave off. He didn't ask for your help."

She stiffened and turned slowly at him. "He didn't have t-" She froze. Harry, who had been riled up by Ron's comment, looked at her in askance. She looked conflicted. He met Neville's confused gaze and shrugged. Usually, she would be the first one to speak up.

"Hermione, I-"Neville started hesitantly. Before he could say anything, Hermione cut him off.

"He's right. Neville, I'm sorry for acting like a bossy know-it-all. I hope you'll forgive me." She had a brave mask on but Harry could see her gulp and her eyes become wet with tears. _What? Why is Hermione backing down?_

"Honestly," Ron said leaning back in his seat. "What a nightmare. No wonder no one can stand you," he muttered.

Harry watched helplessly as she sniffed and bolted from the classroom. "Hermione! Hey!" He yelled after her. He made to run after her but Professor Flitwick quickly arrived and disabused him of the notion. He also gave Hermione a detention for running out of class early and told Harry and Neville to inform her. Finally, the class ended and Harry quickly threw all his things into his bag and gathered up Hermione's multitude of books with Neville's help.

They searched up and down the castle the entire afternoon, even missing out on their next class. Evening fell. It was time for the Halloween Feast and they had yet to find her.

"Found her?" Harry said panting when he encountered Neville at the entrance to the Great Hall.

"No," Neville gasped out, equally out of breath.

"Stupid Ron," Harry cursed. "Couldn't he keep his big mouth shut for once?" They were just about to split up again when Professor Snape made an appearance.

"Going somewhere?" He asked silkily, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah, er, no sir." Neville stammered, inching back towards the hall. Staring up at Snape, Harry knew they wouldn't be allowed to miss the feast so he grabbed hold of Neville's arm and pulled him in.

"Come on." They had barely sat down at the Gryffindor table before Professor Quirrell burst in.

"Troll — in the dungeons — thought you ought to know." The hall erupted.

"Hermione!" Both the boys looked at each other in horror, realising at the same moment that she didn't know about the troll.

When they finally managed to slip away from the main group and the prefects herding them, they sneaked into an unseen corridor and waited for everyone to pass.

"We'll split up. You take the second floor, I'll check the dungeons."

"But Harry!" Neville protested. "Professor Quirrell said the troll is there!"

Harry looked grim as he replied, "Exactly."

A loud crash interrupted them. It was quickly followed by a high-pitched scream. The boys shared a look and said together "Hermione" before rushing down the corridor to the girls' bathroom. Standing in the middle of the tiled bathroom was a large, dirty troll with his club raised in the air. Its back was facing the entrance, blocking off the rest of the view. The troll smashed its heavy club down, destroying the sink and sending shattered ceramic everywhere. Another scream.

"HERMIONE!" Harry roared and instead of reaching for his wand like Neville did, his hand instinctively plunged into the bag of stones and grabbed the Wingstone for the second time that day. _The club the club the club_, he chanted but was distracted when Hermione screamed again. He lost his concentration and immediately dropped the stone in fear that some other item was accidentally lifted.

"Neville! I need you to distract the troll to one side!" Harry ordered.

"Right," Neville said looking around wildly for something, anything. His eyes landed on part of the broken sink.

"HEY you big fat lump!" He yelled, moving to the left side of the bathroom. When the troll didn't turn and once more began to lift its club, Neville hoisted the piece of ceramic and threw it at its head with frightening accuracy. It landed squarely in the middle of the troll's head with a painful _clonk!_ The troll stopped moving and turned around slowly.

"Run Hermione! Run!" Harry yelled and was imitated by Neville.

"Quickly!" Neville added a bit desperately when the troll bared its teeth in a feral way. "Some help here Harry?"

Reminded of what he was meant to be doing, Harry closed his eyes and grabbed the Wingstone again. Before his eyelids fluttered shut, he spotted a familiar head of bushy hair sidling along the wall behind the troll. _The club_. He slowed his breathing. He had to concentrate. _The club._ His heartbeat was pounding in his ears. He could feel the adrenaline pumping in his blood. He had to ignore it; he had to focus. For a moment, Harry was hovering between two states before he finally fell into his usual meditative trance. _The club. _Unseen to him, the troll's club lifted out of its grasp where it been just about to hit Neville's cowering form and hovered several feet in the air.

Hermione gasped from next to him but he was too deeply in his trance to notice. Instead, he concentrated on lifting the club over the troll's head. The dumb creature looked up at its weapon in confusion, unable to understand why it suddenly seemed to gain a life of its own. Harry let go. When he opened his eyes, it was to the sight of the troll lying concussed on the floor and Neville leaning against the wall looking shaken but safe. The beginnings of euphoria built up inside of Harry but it was quickly shattered by the following words.

"What is going on here?" Professor McGonagall said icily from behind them. Harry felt his stomach drop.

* * *

"You shouldn't have said it was your fault, Hermione," Harry said tiredly. He was lying down on the couch near the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, an arm slung over his eyes in an effort to blot out the light. Hermione was standing awkwardly off to the side, picking at her cuffs and shuffling her feet. Neville joined Harry and settled into an armchair.

"Look, I- I understand if the both of you don't want to be friends with me anymore."

"What?" Harry asked baffled.

"I've brought you nothing but trouble! It's entirely my fault!" Her puffy eyes began to fill with tears again. Harry sat up and pulled her to sit next to him.

"No, you need to calm down, Hermione." He suddenly realised that this was why she had been silent throughout their return to the common room. Harry was unimpressed. "Did you bring the troll into the castle tonight?"

"What? Of course I didn't!"

"Then why do you say it's your fault?"

"Because I made you come find me!" she said shrilly and was shushed by a sixth-year from the nearby table. She continued, albeit more quietly, "If I hadn't been there in the first place, you wouldn't have had to save me." She hung her head. "I don't deserve to be your friend."

Harry put an arm around her. "Hermione," he said gently. "It was our decision to come save you. And it should be up to us whether or not you deserve to be our friend. Personally, I'm honoured to call myself your friend." He met her surprised gaze and jerked his head at Neville. "I'm sure Nev agrees with me."

"He's right. I think you're awesome, Hermione," Neville chipped in softly. She blushed and hid her face.

"Which reminds me, why did you fall for what Ron said?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Well," she nibbled her bottom lip. "On the train you told me-"

"Oh that!" Harry slapped himself on the forehead. Neville's eyes darted from one of them to the other in confusion. "I didn't mean- no, I was talking about- no." He took a calming breath. "I didn't intend for you to go that far. Neville's your friend, I was talking about strangers." Hermione looked at him unsurely.

From the armchair, Neville nodded eagerly. "Yeah. I was really happy that you wanted to help someone like me, Hermione. I thought what Ron said was pretty stupid."

"That Ron," Harry growled. "Sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. Next time I'll-!" Hermione laid a hand on his arm.

"Thank you Harry," she said with a heart-felt look. "I think I understand now guys." Her expression softened. "I hope I don't disappoint you." Both boys beamed at each other, glad that they managed to cheer her up.

"You won't!" Harry said jovially. A spark reignited in her eyes and once again, she became the old Hermione they knew well.

"Now that that's out of the way," she said regaining her composure, "What was that about Harry?"

"What?"

"In the bathroom with the troll. You didn't use a wand." Harry froze.

"I... I didn't?" He replied weakly.

Neville looked thoughtful. "Yes, now that you mention it, I always thought there was something weird about you." At his words, Harry recoiled and the hurt showed clearly on his face. Immediately, Neville said, "I didn't mean it that way Harry. I'm so sorry, please don't take it the wrong way," he begged.

"Being different is exactly what I didn't want to happen." Harry said it so softly that Neville had to get up and relocate to the couch.

"Harry," Hermione said grabbing his hand and covering it with both of hers. "It's alright to be different." Her tone was comforting but it wasn't enough to convince Harry.

"All my life, I was different. I thought coming here would change that."

"You wouldn't be Harry if you did," Neville offered up. Harry's brow furrowed.

"What?"

Nevilled shrugged. "If anyone else had been the Boy-Who-Lived, they would have made use of their fame. You don't."

"And because of that, you think I'm different?" He was bewildered. This whole time, he had thought it was his magic that made him different. Being told that it was his desire for anonymity that made him stand out was enough to make him laugh.

Hermione shuffled closer. "You're our friend no matter what, Harry." Neville agreed solemnly. Looking at them both, he felt the last of his worries slip away and a small smile broke across his face.

"Now," her voice turned serious, "Will you finally tell us what happened?"

He scanned their surroundings. "Too many people. Let's go somewhere quiet."

* * *

"Stones?!" Her voice went high-pitched. Harry turned to the only other sane person in the abandoned classroom with pleading eyes.

"You're not going to freak out too, are you?" Neville held up his hands and shook his head.

"Don't worry Harry. I believe you."

"STONES!" Hermione screeched. "You've been using STONES to do magic!" Harry winced.

"Erm... yeah?" She merely gaped at him. "Hermione?" he asked warily. "It's really no big deal, I've-"

"No big deal! You- you!" The boys watched her fight her emotions down and visibly calm herself. "Harry," she finally said, opening her eyes. "Surely you understand how, how amazingly new this is! Wizards and witches have been using wands for centuries! Then you go and use one of your stones... do you know what this could mean for the Wizarding World?" Her eyes began to gleam. "This could cause a revolution. Imagine that, using something other than wands! What if – what if we could use anything and not just be limited to wands and stones?" Her eyes grew wide with the possibilities.

Harry had slowly been edging away from her during her speech so when she suddenly rounded on him, he yelped in shock. "Hermione!"

"Tell. Me. Everything."

Harry gulped but began his story nevertheless.

"You know how I told you I got given these stones? Well, when the girl said they were magical I kinda believed her. After several years of using them, she... something happened and I knew that she didn't actually mean it. But they worked. So I kept it quiet. I used my stones frequently, discovering new uses and the limitations of each stone. So far, you two have seen me use 3, but you probably weren't aware of it." Harry picked up one of the stones that were strewn on the dusty desk.

"This is the Witstone. It doesn't make you smarter but it makes you think faster and recall things easier. I used it on you, Neville, in the Potions class." The boy perked up.

"That's right! I thought I felt something other than your hand!" Harry nodded and turned back to Hermione.

"I also used it on the train to find Neville's toad." She frowned as she struggled to remember.

"The train? Oh! Was it when you gave me that advice?"

"Exactly!"

"So now that you're touching it... does it mean the Witstone's affecting you?"

"Yep!" He chirped.

"What does this one do then?" She pointed at the Swapstone.

For the next few hours, the trio were holed up in the classroom, eagerly discussing the different stones. That night, they almost missed the curfew and stumbled back into the common room right before it was time. They separated at the stairs, exchanging secret grins with each other.

"We'll discuss more later," Hermione said, her eyes sparkling. Harry nodded. He was thrilled that his friends not only accepted it but wanted to know more about his stones. After the many years of harbouring his secret, it felt extremely therapeutic to finally talk to someone about them. It didn't hurt that his friends would now be able to help him cover up in case he slipped. As the classes progressed, Harry had been beginning to worry about being able to keep his stones a secret. Using his wand was not only out of the question but impossible for him.

In the classroom, Hermione had brought up the topic of his wand. Harry had shared his experiences with trying to use it in Privet Drive. He explained that no matter how hard he tried using the wand like he did with the stones, it just didn't seem to work. Thus, he had eventually given up and the wand had remained just another additional accessory. Now, he could depend on his friends' aid during classes should anything go wrong. Suddenly, a thought crossed Harry's mind.

"Hey Hermione!" He called up to her at the top of the staircase. She turned with a puzzled expression. "Did I mention you have a detention?" Her look of shock was priceless.

That night, Harry went to bed lighter and happier than ever.

**A/N:** Hey all~! Now that Harry has his friends, things are going to be much more smoother for him :D As for Hermione... well, I'd say she's going to be alright now. The talk with Harry on the train was more of a shock to her system whilst the troll incident is going to be more long-lasting and definitely cause her to reconsider some of the things she would have previously done without a thought.

Also, poor Harry's wand is going to get no air time at all in this story. No, in This Bag of Stones, Harry's wand is going to be just a stick. It may be Voldemort's brother wand and all that but to Harry, it's just a disguise for what he considers his true powers. He can touch it, swish it around, say all the Latin words, do everything that wizards do but in the end, it won't work for him because he's more familiar with the stones. Harry doesn't understand that wizards don't find their 'centre' or meditate to cast spells like he does with stones; which is why he can't grasp the concept of using wands. He is simply too attached to the stones. Was that too confusing? Leave a review (how transparent of me...) and I'll try to explain it better. :)

Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 5 - A New Magic

**This Bag of Stones**

**Chapter 5 – A New Magic**

For the past few hours, the three Gryffindors had claimed a table in a secluded corner of the library as their own. In fact, they had frequented that spot so often in the past month that the rest of the student population had learnt to give it a wide berth. Ravenclaws would often walk past and nod in approval at their diligence. Little did they know that the entire time was taken up canvassing the entire library catalogue for any other phenomena similar to Harry's stones.

"I give up!" Hermione declared as she snapped a heavy tome shut, careful to keep her voice quiet.

"Are you alright Hermione?" Neither of the boys had seen Hermione treat books in such a callous manner before.

"No. These books are useless!" She looked as if she was going to cry.

"It's no big deal, we can just forget about all this," Harry said hastily to stall her tears.

"No big deal? No big deal?! Harry, do you know how incredible this is? This is revolutionary! It spits in the face of centuries of tradition!"

"Oh, and that's my fault?" The frustration of the past few days had built up and finally announced itself in a rather loud fashion.

Neville quickly spoke up before it degraded into a real fight. "Look, we've been searching everywhere for any mention of Harry's magic. We're tired and frustrated; getting into a fight now will only make things worse. Let's just take the time to cool off and move elsewhere."

"Good idea Neville," Hermione said without breaking the glaring contest with Harry. They quickly packed their bags – or in Hermione and Harry's case, shoved books in- and headed back to the abandoned classroom where it all started that fateful night more than a month ago. They had only just set their bags down when Hermione began to open her mouth. Neville beat her to it.

"I think we're going about this the wrong way." He was met by twin expressions of disbelief and incredulity. He persisted before either of them could speak. "No, just hear me out. Ever since Harry told us about his stones, all we've been doing is searching if anyone else has experienced the same, right?" He waited till they nodded.

"Well, I think we've been overlooking a very important resource in Hogwarts itself!" His friends were taken aback.

"And what's that?" Harry asked.

"Us!" Neville looked triumphant.

"What do you mean by that, Neville?" asked a genuinely curious Hermione. Secretly, she was extremely impressed with how far he had come in terms of confidence.

"Instead of looking for people who have the same skills as Harry, we should be trying to see if they can be duplicated! And what better people to try it out on that us? We already have a mentor handy," Neville said gesturing towards Harry.

"Huh?" Harry was confused. Hermione, on the other hand, was practically rapturous. Her eyes were shining with delight at Neville's last statement.

"Oh Harry don't you see? Neville just pointed out something so incredibly obvious, oh I can't believe I didn't spot this!" Neville tried to fake being offended but he was just too ecstatic over figuring something out before Hermione did that he simply grinned from ear to ear.

"No, I really don't get it," Harry said, feeling rather put out.

"It's simple. What Neville is proposing is that we learn how to use these stones as well! And you're going to teach us!"

Harry's eyebrows rose. "I am?"

"Of course!"

That set the tone for the rest of the year.

* * *

The room was bare of any decoration. Nothing hung on the dull, gray castle walls. Broken desks and chairs were haphazardly piled up in the corner and covered in a thin layer of dust. The single arched window was partially frosted over and depicted a wet, cold and windy scene. The view, however, was ignored by the three occupants of the room. Instead, the trio sat cross-legged in the shape of a triangle. Their eyes were closed and their breathing slowed. Their shoulders were slumped and their posture was relaxed. Yet, there remained the feeling that these first-years were not asleep but still aware of their surroundings.

The silence was broken when one of the boys cracked open an eyelid and peered curiously at his fellow Housemates.

"Stop it Harry," Hermione said crossly. He backtracked.

"How did you know?"

"I can feel your boredom from here," she replied, finally opening both her eyes and stretching. She yawned. "You may be bored but Neville and I here are trying to learn how to meditate."

"Look," he said defensively, "I never said we _had_ to learn how to meditate-"

"No, but it's the only thing that comes close to what you are doing when you use your stones!"

"Hey Harry," Neville broke in suddenly. Their heads swivelled to him. "Pass me the Dawnstone." Harry fumbled at the small pouch and pulled the drawstrings open. When they had started learning, they agreed that if either of them ever came close to being able to use a stone, they'd use the Dawnstone first as it was the easiest stone to control. After weeks of attempting to master the stone, Hermione and Neville had finally decided to learn to centre themselves before using it.

"Here Neville," Harry said, holding the stone out on a shaking hand. He was nervous for many reasons. Firstly, if this worked, it meant that he was not alone with this power. Secondly, it meant that all the hard work they'd put into it had finally paid off. Hermione seemed to be just as apprehensive. Both of them watched closely as Neville picked up the stone and rolled it around in the palm of his hand. The white pebble was still as dull as ever. Slowly, the two began to feel themselves losing hope once more.

Neville suddenly drew a quick breath and opened his eyes. As they watched, the little stone in the palm of Neville's hand began to glow with the softness of the rising sun. The light grew slowly, expanding its circle of illumination until it was too bright for them to look at. Still, the trio fought to keep their eyes on it for the light was more than just a light. It had now become a symbol of their success.

"Nev! You did it!" Hermione leapt on the poor boy, disrupting his concentration and throwing the room back into its original dimness. Harry echoed her sentiment just as enthusiastically. Neville just sat there, basking in his accomplishment. He looked slightly shocked but his pride at achieving this accomplishment was clear to see, even until dinnertime in the Great Hall.

"You're looking pretty chuffed," noticed Ron as they sat down at the table.

"That's because I am," Neville answered confidently, ignoring the raised eyebrows at his sudden bravado. Harry noticed the reactions of those around Neville and smiled inwardly, having seen this courage in the shy Gryffindor from the beginning.

"Oh yeah? What about?"

"Er.." Neville shifted uncomfortably, darting an uncertain glance at Harry. "It's no big deal."

"Come on, mate. Tell me!" Neville looked pleadingly at Harry and Hermione for help.

"Mind your own business," Hermione said tartly. "That's what you told me in Charms class." Ron gulped and looked rather pale.

"Look, Granger... Hermione, I'm ss-s-sorry about what I said on Halloween." Her eyebrows rose.

"Your stutter makes Professor Quirrell sound like a professional orator!" She quipped, making Harry and Neville grin.

"Orator?" Ron scowled for a second then took a deep breath. His ears were steadily turning red. "What I mean to say is-" Hermione held up her hand. He expelled a sigh of relief.

"I understand what you mean to say and ... I forgive you as long as you don't do it again." Ron looked ecstatic.

"Great! Friends?" Hermione looked at Harry indecisively. He shrugged.

"Friends," she reciprocated.

"About bloody time. Now, what does or-orat- oratory-"

"Orator?" Neville piped up.

"That," Ron said gratefully, "mean?"

"Well," Hermione began smartly.

From then on, Ron assimilated almost flawlessly into their group, adding a fourth dimension they never thought they needed. He provided their much needed comic relief and his sense of fun balanced out Hermione's intense love of studying. If there was one thing Harry could change, it would be Ron's obsession with chess. Every evening without fail, he would settle down in front of the fireplace and beg for games from the others. And every evening in front of the fireplace, Harry would get trounced again and again until he gave up and swapped with Neville.

Soon, the time came when Ron started to notice their prolonged absence on weekends and during particularly quiet weekdays.

"Where did you go?" he inquired, looking up from his game of chess when the trio finally returned to the common room. Hermione threw them a nervous glance.

"Er..we.." she dithered.

"Just tell him." She looked concerned.

"Are you sure, Harry? What about you, Neville? What do you think?" Neville simply shrugged.

"It's Harry's secret to keep, not mine." By then, Ron had managed to tear himself from the chessboard and jogged over.

"What's up?" His eyes darted back and forth at their serious faces.

"Ron, what I'm about to say can't be told to anyone. Anyone at all. No professors, no brothers, mother, father, no one. Zilch," Hermione said lowly.

He nodded eagerly. "Of course!"

"And ...just try and keep it down, yeah?" Harry added. Ron looked offended.

"I won't be a Weasley otherwise!"

* * *

"USE STONES!" He bellowed, jumping out of his chair.

"ER, to hit the TROLL, that's all!" Harry quickly followed up in alarm when the occupants of the entire common room looked up at Ron's outburst. He turned back to Ron and hissed, "Keep it down, _Weasley_." Neville had his head in his hands while Hermione was anxiously wringing her hands.

Harry gave a loud, fake laugh aimed at the people still staring at them. "Just re-telling the tale of Halloween night!"

Meanwhile, Neville had reached over and pulled a shocked Ron back down to his seat.

"Take it easy, Ron. We asked you to keep it quiet, not announce it to the world," he joked.

"I suggest you start thinking of a new surname instead of Weasley!" Harry whispered angrily.

"Guys, I think we should continue this in the boys' dorm," Hermione interrupted. She had noticed a couple of sixth-years throw glares at them from a study table in the corner. The rest of them agreed and quietly trudged upstairs. Luckily, Dean and Seamus were absent from their dorm. The three boys automatically headed to their own beds while Hermione delicately wrinkled her nose and sat on the edge of Harry's bed.

"What do you find so hard to believe, Ron?" He stared at her incredulously but didn't say anything.

"Should we give him a demonstration?" Neville asked mischievously. Harry tossed him the bag of stones.

"I hope you'll use the most appropriate one," Hermione observed.

"Here," Neville said, holding out a small white stone. "Place it in the palm of your hand." Ron wordlessly held out his right hand face-up.

"Look at it. Do you think it's a normal stone?" Ron gingerly rolled it around a few times and nodded. Neville held up his index finger and ever so slowly, reached out towards Ron. The tip of his finger came into contact with the stone.

The Dawnstone flared into light. The trio grinned in victory: Neville and Hermione had spent a long time training for this.

"Buh-buh-but," Ron spluttered.

"Don't worry Ron. We had the same reaction as you," Neville reassured. Ron could only shake his head in disbelief.

**A/N: **Aaand Ron has joined the group! I'm really sorry about the Britpick... I try. Really. Anyway, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it! And if you did, please leave a review! :)


	7. Chapter 6 - The Making Of

**This Bag of Stones**

**Chapter 6 – The Making Of... **

"How do you stop yourself from doing this in class?" Ron whispered, leaning across his desk to speak to Harry and Hermione who were seated in front.

"Do what?" Hermione whispered back.

"The stones! It's all I can do to stop myself from using them!" He sounded woebegone.

Harry gave a small smile at that. He never realised how lonely keeping a secret as big as that to himself. Now, he had an entire circle of friends who were just as fascinated by them as he was. From the moment Ron had been introduced to the stones, he'd been hooked. The quartet spent hours in what had now become 'their' classroom, even –in Ron's case- forsaking chess to experiment longer with the stones. It was heading well into November and all the first-years had finally gotten into the rhythm of Hogwarts life.

At first, they found it hard to balance their schoolwork and their work with the stones. The boys would often nod off in classes, only to be prodded awake by Hermione. When they grumbled, she would remind them that the teachers would get suspicious and they'd have to suspend their extracurricular activities temporarily. Of course, this news would be enough to keep them bright-eyed and attentive for the rest of the day.

Professor McGonagall would often eye them fondly when she saw Miss Granger keeping them in line. Out of all the Professors, it was only the eagle-eyes Transfiguration Professor that noticed a slight hesitance when it came to Mr Potter's turn to perform the spell. She chalked it up to shyness and any further pursuit of the matter was quickly distracted by either Miss Granger who managed to outperform the rest of her peers or Mr Weasley's utter failure.

When Harry noticed his friends stepping up to distract the teachers while he quickly used the stone to finish the spell, he became even more determined to help them. Under his encouraging tutelage, the trio had managed to master the stones in leaps and bounds. Ron, eager to catch up with the rest, had tried exceptionally hard for the first few nights. To their surprise, he mastered the Dawnstone quicker than Neville and Hermione initially had.

Hermione, unable to hold back, had written all her observations and facts down in a little book that she now carried everywhere. Even during classes, Harry sometimes spotted her pull out the notebook and quickly scribe a few notes. In fact, she was doing it just as Ron asked them the question in transfiguration class.

"Ron," she asked seriously, quill poised over the notebook. "Do you feel twitchy? Perhaps an itching in your hands to use the stones again?" Ron looked aghast.

"Hey! I'm not addicted!" Harry held up his hands in defence when Hermione whipped around to face him.

"Harry, you're fine because you've done this your whole life. I want to find out what it's doing to us-" she gestured at Neville, Ron and herself, "as new users."

"Speaking of new," Ron eagerly interrupted, "What other stones do you have? What kind of powers do they have?" He turned thoughtful. "I think I've got the Wingstone down pat. So what's next?"

Hermione frowned. "You know... I'm actually not sure. None of us have progressed further." The trio turned to Harry, who was looking rather nervous.

"There's a tiny problem with that: there are no more."

"No MORE?!" Neville protested loudly.

"No more what, Mr. Longbottom?" asked a stern voice. Neville gulped.

"Sorry ma'am." He sunk lower in his seat. Professor McGonagall frowned at them for a few seconds and waited till they had all turned back to face the front before beginning class.

* * *

"No more?" Neville whispered fiercely as they left the last class of the day. Harry nodded sombrely.

"I'm sorry... I honestly didn't expect all of you to master them before Christmas!"

"But Harry, there are so many more stones left in the bag!"

"I know, Hermione." He sighed. "But I don't know what they do."

"What?" All three of them exclaimed in unison.

"I've never had to use them before," he shrugged.

"Weren't you curious?" Hermione was flabbergasted. "If I found out about them, I'd have done as much as I could to-"

"Wait wait wait." Ron looked puzzled. "I must have missed this but... Mate, how did you make these stones?" Neville, Hermione and Harry stared at him blankly. He matched them with an even stare. "You know... how did you come up with the different stones and all that," he shrugged, trailing off slightly at their baffled expressions.

"Make the stones?" Harry asked weakly. Hermione looked just as shaken as he felt. "The stones had magic already?" Instead of coming out as a statement, the lilt at the end of the sentence turned it into a question. Ron burst out in laughter. When he saw that no one else had joined him, his laughter faded away.

"What, you're serious?" The other three nodded. "Oh. OH. I'm sorry, I just assumed. Don't mind me, I was just being stupid," he began to babble.

"No, I think you're on to something, Ronald." There was a deepening frown line on Hermione's forehead as she pondered the subject. The boys waited patiently, knowing that she'd tell them when she arrived at a conclusion.

"I think I know what we're going to do this Christmas," she finally said in a smug tone. All of them groaned in response but deep down, each of them were almost thrumming with anticipation for what Hermione had planned for them.

When they eventually arrived at their classroom and were comfortably seated, Hermione opened her notebook.

"Harry, I need you to be as precise as possible. No leaving out little details and describe EVERYTHING." She leaned closer. "What happened when you first used the stones?" Neville and Ron perked up while Harry seemed to slump even further.

"I- I dunno," he said confused. "Well, as you all know, the Dawnstone was my first stone as well," he referred to their first few lessons. They nodded eagerly. "Well... My relatives were never the most accommodating of guardians." He grimaced. "That might be the largest understatement of the century. But moving on, ever since the light bulb blew in my cup- my room," he hastily covered up. "My uncle never bothered to change it."

Hermione frowned, "But Harry, I thought you said you used it for the first time when you were 8?" He stared at her helplessly. Her eyes widened in realisation and her mouth formed a little 'o'.

"Anyway, it was really dark that night. I remember it was raining and everyone went to sleep early." Harry's eyes grew distant.

Locked securely in his cupboard, little Harry knew in his mind that nothing could get to him. No cold wet, miserable rain thundering down on the back of his head as he trudged home from school, no chilly winds to pierce through his soaked clothes and deep into his bones, no flashes of blinding light accompanied by a concussive bang of thunder. Yet for some reason, the still darkness of the living room seemed to magnify the pattering of the rain outside. Deep inside Harry laid the terrifying notion that he was the only soul on the bottom floor of the house. He had long heard Dudley's booming steps as he ran to his parents' room for comfort.

His hands felt outwards in the pitch black of his cupboard, searching for any form of comfort. They encountered a small, velvety bag. He patted it and felt for the spherical objects inside. Carefully pulling the drawstrings apart, Harry dipped a hand into the bag and pulled out a smooth white pebble. The only reason he could tell it was white was because it glowed in the darkness of his cupboard.

Outside, the rain drummed onto the earth, not letting up on its deluge. The lightning had thinned out before altogether disappearing. Due to the cloudy skies, Harry had long lost his sense of timing. He could only guess by the amount of time that had passed since the Dursleys went up that it was way past midnight and entering early morning.

Dawn.

As he was always locked in every night and only let out when Aunt Petunia demanded breakfast, Harry had never experienced sunrise before. He gripped the cool stone, trying to draw as much comfort from the token as possible. Perhaps, he pondered, sunrise was something like sunset but in the opposite direction. The rays of the sun would slowly pierce the horizon, spreading leisurely across the eastern sky. Then a deep crimson would follow and finally, the star of the show: the sun. Perhaps for a few precious seconds, he would be able to stare at the dominating round orb without blinking white spots away from his vision.

Suddenly, he noticed his right palm heating up. Harry opened his hand, expecting to see a luminous white stone. Instead, light seemed to pour out in waves, spilling from his hands and illuminating the entire cupboard. _Is this dawn? _Harry wondered, dazzled.

There was silence in the room for a few seconds after he finished his story. Harry looked around hesitantly, wondering if he had revealed too much about his life back at the Dursleys. Before his fears could fester, Hermione spoke up.

"Harry, I think what you're describing is the making of a new stone."

"See, I knew it all along," Ron nodded sagely. Neville scoffed at him.

"No you didn't!" Ron scowled at Neville.

"At least I tried!" He fired back.

"BOYS!" Their heads whipped around to face Hermione. She glowered at them. "Do you understand what's happening here?" Her glare intensified.

Ron shrunk back slightly and back-tracked. "That... I was right?" he said meekly. She shook her head.

"Ron was wrong?" Neville offered. She shook her head again and then sighed when there was no forthcoming answer. Looking at their blank faces, her expression softened and her shoulders slumped.

"Think about it guys. Remember what Harry was saying. Come on, just try!" she encouraged. Harry looked doubtful but still tried his best to remember if he had said anything particularly intelligent. They wracked their brains for a couple of seconds before Neville shot up from the broken seat he had occupied.

"Hermione..." he gasped, his eyes round. Ron looked at him warily then at Hermione, who was nodding in understanding.

"What? What is it?"

"Ron, this.. this is.." Neville sank back down into his chair looking dazed.

"What is it? Tell me!" Ron insisted.

"Whoa, Hermione. No. You can't be sure. Just because I can doesn't mean..." Harry trailed off.

"Why not?" she asked simply.

"Why not?" Harry asked incredulously. "What- How.. Why... Argh!" He threw his hands up in frustration. "There are too many reasons why you can't do it!

"Then tell me, Harry. Tell me why we can't do this," she pleaded.

"WILL SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON!" Ron bellowed. Neville winced and rubbed his ear.

"Ron, Hermione's saying that we can make our own stones too." Even while he was sulking, Harry had to admit that Ron's pole-axed expression was amusing.

****

A/N: To everyone who has diligently read the story this far, thank you and I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for your reviews, alerts, favourites and C2s- trust me, I spent a LOT of time fawning over them! Also, to the guests who leave reviews, please PLEASE remember to leave your email or anything as well, otherwise I can't reply!

So yes, they've discovered that they too can create their own stones. Harry's trying to just be as supporting as he can because 1) they're his friends and 2) he hates the thought of going back to being the only person using a different type of magic. I don't think I stated this clearly enough but whenever they use the stones, they ARE still using their own magic to power it. It's just that the stones are pretty much like spells.

Also, the next few chapters might see Harry slide to a side character as I concentrate on the other 3 while they create their own stones. :) Enjoy!


	8. Chapter 7 - Toil and Trouble

**This Bag of Stones**

**Chapter 7 – Toil and trouble**

"_Chudley Cannons is the best,_

_They flew and fought and beat the rest._

_Anyone who hears us roar,_

_Will only see our broomsticks soar_!"

"Ron, will you stop that?" Hermione demanded. "We're trying to concentrate!" Ron sulked.

"You told me to do anything I could to focus and singing Chudley Cannons helps me relax!" Hermione rolled her eyes

"I only said that so you'd stop _knocking_ your stone on the floor like it's going to break!" Ron looked down at the small pebble he was holding. The three of them – Hermione, Neville and Ron- were each given a stone from Harry's collection to experiment with themselves. Harry still remained doubtful that they would succeed in duplicating his creations but he supported them nonetheless.

From the moment Harry revealed the making of the Dawnstone, Hermione had created copious notes on the process and constantly brought it up whenever she had the opportunity. Ron sullenly contemplated the previous few days.

_In the morning when she greeted them:_

"Harry! Ron, Neville! Good morning!" She gushed, looking far more awake than the boys.

"Mornin, Hermione," Harry replied blearily.

"So I was just thinking," her voice fell, "What do you think of giving us each a stone for now? Then we can all try and make them at our own pace!

"Hermione," Harry just groaned.

_When they were lining up outside of the Potions classroom:_

"How about each of us record everything we do and think of while holding the stone?" Hermione said excitedly.

Harry scanned the surroundings. "There are people around, Hermione," he hissed.

"Harry's right, you shouldn't mention it in public!" Ron jumped in.

Neville added soothingly, "Just in our classroom."

_While they were making their way to the Great Hall for dinner:_

She made sure to look around for other students before pulling the other three close and whispering fiercely, "I think we should just carry the stones around in our pockets or something for as much as possible.

Ron groaned and protested, "Hermione, would you drop it for once! I'm hungry!"

"Let's save this for later," Neville promised.

_Just before they turned in for the night:_

"Remember to hold the stones while you sleep! And think about what you want to happen! Ooooh!" she exclaimed suddenly. Ron face-palmed.

"Perhaps we should meditate while holding the stone for some times before sleeping!"

"I know this is really exciting for you, I mean we all think it's fantastic too!" Harry gestured at Ron and Neville who were nodding eagerly. "But you really have to stop mentioning this outside our classroom. It's too dangerous!" Hermione frowned.

"I know but... why are we trying so hard to keep this a secret? With something this amazing, we shouldn't be keeping it to ourselves!"

Ron's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Yeah, mate. That's what I was thinking too. Don't get me wrong, I don't really fancy telling the whole of Hogwarts. But what about my mum, my family?"

Neville spoke up after throwing Harry's slumped shoulders a look. "Guys... you have to remember this is Harry's secret. He trusts us enough to share it. It's not his fault if he doesn't want everyone else to know as well." Hermione's expression cleared.

"Oh! I'm sorry Harry. I forgot. I promise I won't tell anyone you don't want me to!"

However, Ron remained puzzled. "But if I tell them it's a secret, they won't tell anyone," he stubbornly said. "You can trust them, Harry! You've met them at the station, right?"

"Ron, don't pressure him! Would you rather him not telling you this in the first place?" Hermione said outraged.

"I'm just sayin'! Harry, what do you think?" All of them focused on their gazes on Harry. He shifted uncomfortably before lashing out,

"Just do what you want!" He bolted up the stairs to his dorm, tumbled into his bed and snapped the curtains shut before anyone could say anything else. Back downstairs, Ron, Hermione and Neville were looking at each other in shock.

"I think we pushed him too far," Hermione said rather sadly. "You boys go see if he's ok. I'll see him tomorrow." Neville nodded and pulled Ron along with him.

"Goodnight, Hermione."

The following morning, Harry descended the stairs to meet the three concerned gazes of his friends. Hermione and Neville looked concerned while Ron wore an apologetic expression.

"Harry," Hermione greeted, eyeing the shadows under his eyes. "I'm sorry about last night. Are you feeling alright?" He smiled wanly at her.

"I'm fine. Sorry for worrying all of you. It's just... I've kept this a secret for my whole life. Now I come here and!" He gestured at them. "It's only been less than 3 months! And three more people already know about it!" She looked at him sorrowfully.

"Too much, too soon? I understand." She threw a glance at Ron and Neville. "We- we can totally forget about this. Just ignore it until you're ready." Neville quickly agreed, eager to cheer Harry up.

Ron looked extremely reluctant but finally said, "You do what you want to, mate. It's your secret not mine." Harry's eyes softened.

"Thanks everyone... but no thanks. I knew what I was doing when I told the three of you. I trust you. It's everyone else that I have a problem with. I mean, you can use your wands but..." He gestured at the pocket where they knew the pouch was located. "I've just got my stones."

Hermione stepped forward and rested a comforting hand on his arm. "Don't worry about it. Without you, we wouldn't have discovered this." She frowned. "Though it sure is a pity you can't seem to use more than one method of channelling your magic." He shrugged.

"I've already accepted it - I'm just too used to using the stones. Anyway, I've survived this long in Hogwarts, haven't I?" He said, cheering up suddenly.

With the tension in the air cleared, the four students reunited and made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. For the past week, most of the conversations at the Gryffindor table had been geared around the Quidditch match between them and Slytherin.

"All excited for the match this weekend?" Fred dropped into the seat next to Ron.

"I remember my first match," George said dreamily, trapping Neville and Ron in a Weasley twin sandwich.

"Course we were never that short," Fred teased, ruffling Ron's hair.

"Geroff!" He frowned darkly up at his older brother. Neville shifted uncomfortably when he caught George eyeing him mischievously.

"Now, oh twin of mine, do you think the firsties are hiding something from us?"

Fred perked up. "Why, my fellow twin, I think you're onto something!"

"Let's see," George said scanning their shifty expressions. Hermione bit her lip and looked away while Harry stonily ate his eggs. "I think Neville has something to say!" he declared to Neville's dismay.

"No, I don't!" he protested desperately, looking at his friends for help. "I don't!"

"Leave him alone!" Ron scowled.

"Why, does ickle Ronniekins have something he wants to say?" Fred prodded.

"Like hiding in a certain classroom?" The four first-years stiffened.

"Go away!"

"Spill, little brother!"

"What has you so secretive, huh?" George's tone was friendly but his eyes were anything but.

"Is this something we should be telling mum about?" Fred threatened. Ron sent a meaningful glance at Harry whose eyes widened and gave the barest of nods.

"What was that?" George said warily. Fred on the other hand, hadn't caught the interaction and continued to nag Ron.

"I bet you even forgot all about the match didn't you? Fred said knowingly.

Ron ignored George in favour of answering Fred. "Course not!"

"And are you going then?" He pressed. George was still staring at Harry suspiciously.

"Look," Hermione cut in, distracting the twins for a few precious seconds. "If you want to tell your mother, go ahead."

"Hermione!" Ron choked.

"BUT. Ron will just tell her the truth and you'll be the ones in trouble." She shrugged and returned to her book.

George's eyes narrowed at her. "And what is this 'truth'?" He picked up the butter dish and offered it to Neville. "More butter? Your toast looks a little dehydrated there." Not leaving time for him to answer, George lathered a thin layer of butter on the bread.

"Don't eat that, Neville!" Hermione said sharply. "You want something from us yet you trick us at the same time? How Slytherin of you!" she insulted.

George was taken aback. "I did nothing!" he complained.

"Is that so? Then eat it." She raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Go on Neville. Give it to him," Hermione encouraged at Neville's doubtful look. George heaved a sigh and put on a brave face.

"Nothing will happen! Trust me!"

"Eat it."

"You don't trust me? I'm wounded." He pouted at her.

"Eat it."

"Why Hermione, I didn't know you cared so much about my well-being! Don't worry though, I've already eaten." He patted his stomach.

"Eat. It."

"This is stupid!" Fred added.

"What he said!" Hermione simply glared at him. George dithered and added quickly, "I think Fred would appreciate your efforts more than me."

Beside Ron, Fred choked on the pumpkin juice he had been drinking. "You-!"

"One of you eats it or I won't tell you what we were doing," Hermione said firmly.

"Come on, brother mine, eat it. At least one of us will come out alive and since I'm clearly the smarter one here-"

"Hermione's right, George. You've been found out. There's no denying it!" Fred said, glaring at his twin.

"What happened to not selling each other out?" George said, outraged.

Fred shrugged. "You started it."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"EAT IT!" Hermione ordered. George cowered slightly and finally snatched the toast Neville had been offering for the past few minutes. He took a bite and promptly turned into a large fluffy yellow chicken. The Gryffindor table erupted with laughter and the other tables cheered along, glad that someone had finally gotten ahead of the self-confessed troublemakers.

"Beat by a firstie," Fred moaned as he grabbed a slice of toast. "Where's the honour in that?" He continued, reaching for the butter dish. Unseen by him, Harry quickly grabbed the jinxed butter dish from the other side of the table. Only Hermione spotted him rolling the Swapstone in the palm of his other hand below the table. "I guess I'm the better twin after all." George squawked in indignation. Fred smirked at his twin and spread the butter on his toast. "Ah, one hour of freedom without being bogged down by my useless twin. Whatever am I going to do?"

As he was too busy gloating, he didn't notice Harry, Ron and Neville staring eagerly at him. Hermione even had her book lowered slightly and was watching him over the thick pages. He took a bite.

"SQUAWK!" Another yellow chicken joined the table. Harry smirked.

"Both of them in one shot! You firsties are one to watch out for!" Lee Jordan called out from where he was sitting further along the table. Hermione smothered a smile while Ron puffed out his chest.

"How did you do that?" said Seamus admiringly.

"Well," Ron began pompously, "The first one was all Hermione's work, the genius that she is." She blushed and sunk back down behind her book. "As for Fred here," the chicken beside him gave a loud shriek. "I told Harry to swap the butter dish with the jinxed one, see? So we got both of them in one go!"

As they were walking to class, Ron leaned over to Harry and said, "Boy am I glad you understood me."

"You're lucky you got him in time, Harry," Neville added.

"I'm just glad no one saw me using the Swapstone," Harry shrugged.

With that excitement over, classes progressed normally that Friday and before they knew it, the weekend had arrived and they were standing in front of their classroom door sharing eager glances. Weekends meant extra long sessions spent focusing on the stones and having discussed it all week – thanks to Hermione-, they were more than eager to begin trying to make their own stones. The Quidditch match, which at some point might have been on the forefront of Ron's mind, was utterly forgotten.

Several hours had passed before Ron began to sing the Chudley Cannons chant out of sheer boredom.

"Nothing's happening!" he groaned in frustration. Hermione looked up from the gold-streaked stone she had been given.

"You can't expect results so quick," she said primly. "What are you trying to make the stone do anyway?" He leaned forward and showed her the rough, gray pebble. It was rather heavy in comparison to the other stones and was shaped like a bean. _It fits Ron, _Harry thought, looking at it. _In a weird way._

"I'm trying to make it win every chess game that I play!" He said excitedly. Neville and Harry rolled their eyes.

"Wait, let me get this straight. You have the power to craft a new spell... a new power... and you use it on chess?" He nodded enthusiastically. Hermione looked sceptical.

"Do you think that's going to be helpful in the future?" she questioned dubiously. "Well, it's your stone. But I recommend you try playing chess while holding it." Ron looked thoughtfully at the stone.

"I think you're on to something," Ron said with a dawning expression.

"Thanks Hermione. Really, I'm going to appreciate this," Harry said sarcastically. Hermione's forehead creased.

"Why?" she asked. Neville gestured at Ron, who looked up suddenly and his eyes fell upon the first victim.

"Harry! Play chess with me!" Harry's only reply was a groan.

* * *

The following week quickly passed without any further advances from Hermione, Ron and Neville. Harry had decided from the beginning to simply watch and help anyone who needed it during the making of their stones. While some of the questions Hermione asked often rendered him speechless, Neville was quick to understand the basics and had settled down to meditate with the stone in his hands. After the first weekend trying to shape their individual stone's power, Harry felt that Neville was the closest to completing it.

Monday's lessons began with Herbology in Greenhouse One. Instead of the normal lectures on the uses and dangers of plants and fungi, Professor Sprout had prepared something different for the first-year class.

"Come on students, come right in. All the way up to the front," she said excitedly, bouncing on her toes. The students milled about, chattering in anticipation of their out-of-the-ordinary lesson. Next to her was a dark, short gnarled tree. As they approached, Neville suddenly stiffened to his friends' surprise.

"Neville?" Hermione asked curiously.

"The- the tree," he stuttered. Harry looked warily at where he was pointing. It slanted slightly to the side, leaves hanging morosely in a loose curtain.

"It's a Wiggentree!" Neville exclaimed as they pushed closer to the front.

"A wig in a tree?"

"A Wiggentree, Ron," Hermione absently corrected. "It's a magical rowan that protects anyone who touches its trunk from Dark creatures as long as they are doing so," she said, slipping into her lecture mode.

"Like how our stones work?" Ron asked, his expression clearing.

"Exactly!" she said happily. "But what's it doing here?"

"You're in luck, class!" Professor Sprout joyfully greeted. "Last night, Hagrid found this collapsed tree in the Forest and brought it to us."

Neville gasped from beside them. "Collapsed?"

"The only thing that will harm you is the Bowtruckles that guard this tree." She patted the trunk fondly. "Nasty when they're attacked, making them the perfect guardians for this fine specimen. You might want to watch your eyes, they like targeting enemies with their long, sharp fingers. But don't worry! It won't happen if you're careful." She looked around at their terrified faces.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Come closer!"

"She's joking, right?" Ron whispered, leaning over to the other three.

"No one's laughing," Harry whispered back as he nervously eyed the tree.

Neville didn't seem to hear them. He walked right up, ignoring Hermione when she whispered his name anxiously.

"Be careful!" She called out softly behind him.

He slowly approached the listing tree, reaching out carefully to touch the twisted trunk. The Wiggentree looked tired and utterly defeated from its fall. Several leaves were turning yellow at the tips and it was clear which direction it had fallen in from the crushed and broken branches and torn leaves. His palm brushed against the rough bark. Neville closed his eyes and could almost feel the pain emanating from the pitiful tree.

"It's dying," Neville murmured and threw a mournful look at Professor Sprout. She nodded.

"I believe it was attacked last night. The Bowtruckles are heavily injured. They didn't even twitch when I replanted it." She patted the small pot that held the Wiggentree.

"Attacked?" Ron said in shock. "I thought it repelled Dark creatures!" The professor levelled a stare at him.

"Who said it was a creature?" The students were gobsmacked.

"Professor, are you saying it was a human?" Lavender said in abject horror.

"Who would do that to such a pure tree as this?" Neville stroked the trunk.

"I think the more important question is: What human would wander through the Forbidden Forest other than Hagrid?" Hermione asked grimly. Neville took advantage of the following silence to slip the moss-covered stone that he had claimed from Harry's stash into the earthy soil near the roots of the tree. Looking around furtively to ensure no one had spotted him, Neville returned his hand to stroking the Wiggentree carefully before stepping back and rejoining his classmates.

Later that day, Harry and Hermione would notice his detachment and comment upon it. His only answer would be to smile wanly and look into the distance in the direction of where he knew his stone was.

**A/N:** Whew! This chapter is twice longer than usual! Thanks for following the story this far :D

Obviously, Neville's one of my favourite characters at the moment. There's just something about his unassuming demeanour that makes me want to help him out (as you can see from him being the first out of the three to learn how to use the stones and now create them). Also, the Swapstone worked on Fred because remember the item they are swapping has to be in the owner's 'possession' and Harry holding it qualified it as his.

Oh, and Harry's the only one who can't use a wand because he learnt to use the stones first and the way of using the stones is different to how you would use a wand. To use the stones, they have to 'meditate' or find their centre whereas with the wand you use movements and an incantation. As Harry grew up using a different method, he can't grasp the concept of waving a stick and just saying the words. However, his friends can easily transition between the two because they only recently started using wands and learnt how to use the stones at pretty much the same time. Therefore, using the wand and the stones require different mindsets.

If I didn't explain something well enough, please don't hesitate to ask :) I'm quite narrow-sighted when I write stories so there might be some things that I left out...


	9. Chapter 8 - Neville's Creation

**This Bag of Stones**

**Chapter 8 – Neville's Creation**

Previously:

_Neville took advantage of the following silence to slip the moss-covered stone that he had claimed from Harry's stash into the earthy soil near the roots of the tree. Looking around furtively to ensure no one had spotted him, Neville returned his hand to stroking the Wiggentree carefully before stepping back and rejoining his classmates._

One day later:

"Neville?" Harry asked in confusion as he looked up from his bacon and eggs.

"I need to do something. I'll see you in class," Neville said, pushing away his plate and getting up from the table.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, taking in Neville's tense stance.

The young Longbottom did his best to smile reassuringly but it was quickly seen through by Harry and Hermione. She snapped her chosen reading material for the day shut and drained her glass of pumpkin juice. Harry followed her actions and shovelled the remaining food as quickly as possible into his mouth. He nudged Ron, who seemed to be in the third course of his usual breakfast routine, but was consequently ignored for another serving of hash browns. He shrugged and stared at Neville expectantly.

"Well?"

"Guys, you don't have to-" he began.

"Don't worry about it, Neville," Hermione smiled. "We WANT to." Neville met their determined gazes and his shoulders sagged in relief.

"Thanks."

"Now, why don't we go to this oh-so-important place, huh?" she teased. They left the Great Hall, after informing Ron that they'd meet him in the following lesson. They weren't too sure whether he heard them or not. Neville hesitantly lead them out of the doors and into the cool chilly air.

"Yesterday.. I- I felt like I had to do something," he stuttered. "It was dying! The tree! And Professor Sprout!" He choked, his face screwing up in frustration.

"Hey," Harry lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's alright."

"You did something, didn't you?" Startled, Neville looked up to see Hermione staring knowingly at him. She gave him a small smile. "We knew something was off last night. We just wanted you to tell us first."

"You can trust us Neville," Harry added earnestly.

Neville took a deep breath and said, "Iputmystoneinthesoil." At their incomprehensive stares, he relaxed and said more slowly, "I put my stone in the soil. Yesterday, when no one was looking." He dithered before adding in an uncertain tone, "I thought it would help."

"Oh," Hermione breathed, her eyes wide. "I think- I think you might have something there!"

"Blimey Neville!" Harry playfully punched him lightly on the arm. The boy grinned abashedly and ducked his head, hiding the blush that was threatening to take over his features.

"It might not have worked," he mumbled. They hurried to the greenhouse. This time, Harry was certain that Neville succeeded in making his stone work. As they approached Greenhouse One, Harry hoped with all his heart that the tree would have at least recovered from its attack.

"What were you thinking when you pushed the stone into the soil?" Hermione asked. Harry recognised the academic tone that had taken over. Neville merely shrugged in answer.

"I just wanted the tree to get better."

"What do you expect will happen overnight?"

"I... I was hoping that the broken branches would have fallen off and maybe some new shoots." He grimaced. "Hopefully the leaves would have recovered or be replaced? I don't know- am I asking for too much?" He turned pleading eyes towards his friends.

"All you can do now is just to hope for the best," Harry said. Neville nodded fervently.

Before they reached the door, a dark shape from the inside of the greenhouse slammed the door open.

"Professor Sprout!" Hermione said, a hand raised to her chest in shock. The professor's hat was dangerously tilted with wild bunches of hair pulled out in a frazzled mess. Her face had turned into a mottled red and her pupils were blown wide open.

"Miss Granger!" she said faintly before noticing the two boys beside her. "Mr Potter! Mr Longbottom!"

"Professor," Neville asked hesitantly. "Is everything alright?"

"Alright?!" She mimicked rather hysterically. "Why, Mr Longbottom, they're just fine! Just fine..." she shook her head as words failed her. "Must tell... tell... yes." Her eyes roved over to Hogwarts before spotting the three students standing in front of her again. "Good day!" she said in a high-pitched voice and marched off towards the castle. They stared at her receding figure and then at each other. Without another word, Neville hurried into the greenhouse. His hands were trembling with nerves and anticipation.

Hermione and Harry rushed in after Neville but before they could take more than two steps into the greenhouse, Hermione slammed into his back and rebounded onto Harry. It was only due to his quick reflexes that she hadn't fallen.

"Nev, wha-" Harry trailed off, his eyes catching sight of the Wiggentree that only yesterday had been well on its way to becoming compost.

A towering canopy of verdant leaves strained against the ceiling of the fragile greenhouse. The shrunken, wizened trunk had straightened and expanded into a healthy, humongous tree while roots as large as they were spilled from the small pot and were entrenched deep in the soil below the greenhouse. Huge branches stretched out above them, forming a web-like network that blocked out all light. The trio could practically hear groaning noises as the Wiggentree pushed desperately against the inhibiting walls.

-Lifestone-

Description: A flat pebble mottled with green moss.

Function: Has healing properties when immersed in soil near the plant.

Conditions: Only works on one plant. May induce special properties in the plant when it is healed (e.g. more magical strength).

The first thing that occurred to Harry was "Merlin! Does this mean the Bowtruckles grew too?"

His words finally seemed to filter through to the other two who were still staring up at the tree with their mouths dangling open. Hermione recovered first and quickly assumed her scholar persona.

"That's quite probable, actually. Perhaps not grown in individual _size_ per se but grown population wise. What do you think, Neville?" she asked suddenly, jolting the boy out of his shock.

"What?" He was unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of the tree. "I- This is..."

Harry smiled proudly and patted him on the back. "Knew you had it in you the whole time, Nev."

"Harry, I don't know what to say..." He looked overwhelmed. Hermione looked at him in concern.

"Perhaps we should just look for your stone," she suggested, hoping that giving Neville something else to focus on would help. Beforehand, being able to use the stones as another conduit of magic had simply been a hobby -a useful one, no doubt, but a mere pastime nonetheless. However when Neville managed to create a new stone, it had somehow made it more realistic and showed them how far-reaching the consequences were.

Neville nodded mutely and turned back to the tree. They regarded the massive tree once again, taking in the sheer size of it. The trunk itself would require up to 5 people to be able to wrap their hands around it.

Silence reigned for a few seconds before Harry bluntly asked, "Great! Where do we start?"

* * *

They were just in time for Charms. Panting for breath as they joined Ron, they stumbled into the seats he had saved them at the back of the classroom.

"Where have you been?" he hissed angrily.

"We told you!" Harry protested between pants.

"No, you bloody well didn't," Ron scowled.

"You were a bit...side-tracked," Hermione said delicately as she placed her bag down. "Anyway, do you want to hear Neville's big news or not?" Ron whipped around to face the beaming boy.

"No," he said aghast. "You did it? You actually did it? And I missed it?" Neville nodded and held up the mottled, green pebble.

"It saved the Wiggentree from yesterday," Neville said with a proud smile

"Let's go see!" Ron got up determinedly.

"Ron!" Hermione pulled him back into his seat with a thump. "Class is just starting!"

They finally tumbled out of the classroom an hour later and hurtled towards the greenhouse without another thought.

"Go go go go go!" Ron chanted excitedly. When they finally arrived, Ron was the first through the door.

This time, it was Hermione, Neville and Harry's turn to laugh at Ron's flabbergasted expression at the sight of the tree. Trying to stifle his laughter, Neville took his time to analyse the massive tree – which seemed to have only grown larger in their absence- and noted the comparatively humid atmosphere inside the greenhouse.

"So where did you find the stone?" Ron asked, awe-struck.

"Believe it or not," Neville said as he brought out the Lifestone, "a Bowtruckle gave it to me." Ron paled.

"Bowtruckle? Those scary things with sharp nails Professor Sprout was talking about?"

"Walked right up," Neville confirmed.

"I think it was thanking you," Hermione mused, bringing out her notebook.

"Whatever for?"

She scribbled down several words before snapping it shut and meeting Ron's confused stare. "Well, think about it. Bowtruckles live in Wiggentrees. When this one was attacked, obviously the Bowtruckles would have been affected. When Neville here healed the plant, he also gained the gratitude of the Bowtruckles for restoring their home," she finished matter-of-factly. Neville shifted meekly.

"I was just thinking about the tree," he admitted modestly under their admiring gazes.

"You did it anyway, mate!" Ron slapped him hard on the back and laughed when the pudgy boy stumbled forward a little.

"You did great, Nev," Harry said, his eyes flashing with amusement. "Well done!"

"Very impressive indeed!" Hermione genuinely congratulated. "Now," she leaned forward and the notebook magically appeared in her hands, propped open and ready to be written on. "Tell me exactly how you felt when you placed the Lifestone there?"

The three boys groaned and exited the greenhouse, bantering cheerfully as they made their way back to the castle.

**A/N: **Hey all! Did you like the Lifestone? I know, I'm not exactly the best at explaining the stones' magic in my story so I'm just going to lump the explanation here for those who didn't really get it:

So each stone has a certain 'spell' or magic that is decided by the owner from the beginning. It's pretty much stored in the stone so every time it is used, the person just has to channel the magic and let the stone do the work (this is why Harry doesn't understand wands). Each stone needs specific conditions to work under. The benefit gained by the owner is that they can design their own spell and depending on how it works, the stone can perform the user's wishes without supervision.


	10. Chapter 9 - Hermione's Creation

**Chapter 9 – Hermione's Creation**

"Harry!" Hermione burst into the classroom, her chest heaving as she panted for breath. She hitched up the book that she was holding- a book that Ron would later swear was the largest book ever known to mankind.

"It's Malfoy!" She continued with a wild look in her eyes. Harry's grin fell away and he stood up, frowning.

"What did he do?"

"It... he... He let it slip that he wanted to be friends with me! It was horrible! He looked horrified after he said it!" She rushed. The stone Ron had been holding fell to the ground with a loud clunk.

"What!" Ron said in a strangled voice. Harry stared at her for a few more seconds before bursting into laughter.

"Oh!" He managed to choke out. "Malfoy- friends!" Neville simply looked thoughtful.

"What did you say?" He asked curiously. Hermione looked slightly unsure and she hefted the book closer.

"I- I said sure and came here as quick as possible." Her eyes widened suddenly. "Do you think he took that the wrong way?"

"Let's think about this," Harry said, regaining his decorum. "After I publicly denied his hand of friendship, we suddenly act nice to him in flying practice. Then when he finally gets up the courage to be friends with you, you decide it's a good idea to run away?" He teased. As he was speaking, Hermione's hands slowly tightened around the book until her knuckles were almost white.

"Oh no! What should we do?" she moaned.

"Don't worry," Harry reassured. "I've got an idea." Seeing the mischievous sparkle in his eyes and a small but confident smirk, the other two boys unconsciously straightened their backs while Hermione hugged the book in relief.

* * *

As the four friends walked down to the Great Hall for their next meal, they heard hushed whispers starting up at the sight of them. Hermione shrunk slightly and dropped behind, using the backs of the three boys as a shield. While Harry wasn't too happy that she was acting meeker than usual, it also placed him in a better position to eavesdrop on the gossip.

"-why Malfoy would want to befriend an uppity Mudblood like her-" an older Slytherin said darkly.

"- who knew this day would come-"

"-found it so ridiculous she ran away! Smart girl," praised a Ravenclaw.

"What in Merlin's name was Draco thinking?" said an anxious voice close to them. Harry turned his head slightly and spotted Pansy Parkinson. She looked worried and was conversing quietly with Millicent Bulstrode.

Just as they arrived at the entrance to the hall, Harry caught sight of a harried looking Draco Malfoy approaching them without his usual minions. The other Slytherins gave him odd looks as he passed. One of them even reached out with a foot that was certain to trip Malfoy up when he passed.

"Hey Malfoy!" Harry called out before he could get any closer. Draco halted a few steps away from the outstretched foot. Eyeing him critically, Harry noticed small signs that showed harassment by his Housemates. Malfoy's bag was slightly torn at the corner, his hair was ruffled and his clothes were slightly dishevelled. The green tie that was always impeccably tied has hanging loosely around his neck and his normally shiny black shoes had traces of mud. Still, he bore himself with the normal Malfoy poise and carried himself like a king. Harry felt a stab of pity.

"What were you thinking, trying to be friends with Hermione?" He mocked. Malfoy's shoulders tensed and a flicker of anger slipped past his mask. Harry sneered at him, the expression feeling odd and uncomfortable on his face.

"How dare you!" He continued. This time, Malfoy looked slightly confused.

"You think you can trick us?" He yelled loudly, purposefully catching the attention of everyone in the vicinity. His opponent's mask slipped away completely and for the first time, Harry managed to see the real Malfoy. He looked absolutely gobsmacked. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry spotted the foot that was meant to trip Draco slowly withdraw.

"You thought we won't know, didn't you? You thought you'd get away with treating Hermione like this!" Harry placed a protective arm around her. Neville and Ron joined in, glaring at Draco with as much vitriol as they could.

"Well too bad!" Harry made a cutting motion with his free hand. "We know your little tricks! And so," he paused dramatically, "we challenge you to a duel!" Harry hissed more quietly, seeing teachers beginning to head towards them. "Midnight in the trophy room," he continued, darting a quick glance at Neville. "With Neville as my second." He gave a final sneer and marched into the hall, an arm still encircled around Hermione.

Ron stepped closer to the pale and shaky Malfoy heir and threatened, "Come. If you dare."

* * *

Moonlight filtered through frosty windows, glancing off the many polished trophies. Harry and Neville stood in the middle of the room, Neville occasionally throwing uncertain glances at Hermione and Ron while Harry steadily stared at the closed door. Behind them, Hermione stood clutching onto her huge tome while Ron nervously fidgeted with his robes.

"I don't-" Ron was interrupted by a minuscule click of the door.

"Well this is a turn-up, isn't it?" Harry asked smugly, levelling a cool stare at Malfoy as he stepped into the room. Once again, the most telling sign of his recent fall from grace was the lack of bodyguards. Instead of the beaten down expression they were expecting, Malfoy breezed into the room with a stiff back and his nose high in the air.

"It's all you'll ever get, Potter," Malfoy hissed nastily.

"I see you've regained your spirit," Hermione observed.

He spat in her direction, "I never lost it, you filthy Mudblood!" Neville tensed from beside Harry.

"No need to get angry," he said calmly. Harry stepped forward, ignored Draco's quick step backwards, and opened his arms.

"We just wanted to talk."

"What?" Draco said, taken-aback. Out of all the things that he expected would happen tonight, peaceful negotiation was definitely not one of them.

"Talk," Harry said serenely.

"Talk," Draco repeated in disbelief.

"Talk," Neville nodded.

"Yes, yes, we get it," Ron stepped in impatiently. "Now let's move on, yeah?"

"Malfoy," Harry said, taking over. Draco's eyes darted back to meet him. "I asked you to come here to make a deal. One that all of us can only benefit from."

"Asked me to come here?" His eyebrows shot straight up. "You left me no choice!"

"Piffle," Ron said, waving his protests aside. "Go on, Harry, tell him! Tell him your awesome plan!" He said, rubbing his hands together with glee.

"You see, we understand your position," Harry began delicately. Seeing Draco open his mouth, he quickly hurried on, "I mean, Gryffindors as friends with the Slytherins? Surely not! However, we still want to be friends with you and you clearly want to be friends with us." Hermione shushed Malfoy when he made to interrupt.

"That's definitely not going to happen thanks to our Houses' hostility so," his voice dropped, "I've come up with the perfect solution." Draco's curiosity peaked and got the better of him.

"What is it?" He asked, forgetting himself and leaning forward slightly.

"In public, you Draco Malfoy will detest the very sight of us. You'll insult everything about us that you can think of- Ron's eating habits, Hermione's hair, MY hair... and of course, we won't hesitate to do the same. Behind closed doors however, we can have a laugh at everyone's reactions, share stuff, hang out..." he demurred. Throughout his speech, Draco's eyes slowly widened as he considered the possibilities.

"Merlin Potter... you might have made it in Slytherin!" he said, impressed. The side of Harry's mouth quirked up in a smile.

"So what do you say?" The four Gryffindors watched nervously as Draco mulled over the proposition for a while.

"Deal," he said decisively, sticking out a hand. Harry relaxed as Neville and Ron whooped for joy and Hermione cheered in relief. He shook Draco's hand solemnly and then let a smile burst out.

"This is going to be great!" He exclaimed. "Can you imagine everyone's reactions?"

Ron bounced on his toes. "Fred and George are gonna be so jealous! It's the ultimate prank!"

"Prank or no prank, we're not going to be able to wake up on time if we don't get back soon," Hermione pointed out.

"Prepare yourselves, Gryffindors!" Draco said with an impish grin. "You won't know what hit you!"

With that parting remark, he quickly disappeared, leaving the quartet staring at each other.

"So..." Ron spoke up. "Think it'll work?"

"It should," Hermione shrugged. "There's no reason Malfoy won't believe us." Then she grimaced. "Oh no, I need to start calling him Draco now, don't I?"

"Only in private," Neville soothed. "You really covered all our bases there, Harry," he said, turning to address his messy-haired friend.

Said boy grinned and said, "It was only logical. We pretend to hate him, he pretends to hate us- neither of us really needs to know our true feelings about each other! If we do end up liking him, it's fine. Although," he gave a shudder, "I can't imagine it. But if we don't like him, he'll never know! Problem solved!" He finished triumphantly.

After successfully sneaking back into their respective dorms, Hermione let out a sigh of relief, thankful that she was finally able to put the heavy book down. When she was at last ready for bed, she suddenly remembered the stone she had been carrying around. Pulling it out of her bag, Hermione placed it on top of the book and gave it one last considering look.

On a usual night, she would have set aside some time to meditate on the bed while holding the stone. Tonight however, she was simply too tired to even think about opening the book she had borrowed let alone meditate for a while. _The book seemed so interesting_, she thought holding back a yawn. _I want to read... but maybe next time. _With that thought, she promptly climbed under the warm and inviting covers and closed her eyes.

**A/N:** Hullo dear readers! Missed me? Well, I hope the wait was worth it – enjoy! :D

By the way, Harry is going to be a wee bit Slytherin because hey, if you've had a limited set of powers and had to think up of ways to get around the limitations, you too will start to develop some form of cunning. Right?

If you have any thoughts, don't hesitate to tell me~


	11. Chapter 10 - Ron's Creation?

**This Bag of Stones**

**Chapter 10 – Ron's Creation? **

Previously:

_When she was at last ready for bed, she suddenly remembered the stone she had been carrying around. Pulling it out of her bag, Hermione placed it on top of the book and gave it one last considering look. _The book seemed so interesting_, she thought holding back a yawn. _I want to read..._ but maybe next time. With that thought, she promptly climbed under the warm and inviting covers and closed her eyes._

The following morning:

"HARRY!" screamed a familiar voice from the top of the stairs. Harry jerked upwards, his eyes flying wide open for the first time since he woke up. Standing in front of the girls' dormitory was Hermione, her already bushy hair wilder than ever and her fists clenched into white balls. In his haste to reply, he had also shoved Neville from his seat.

"Hermione?" he said weakly, helping Neville pick himself back up from the floor. "You're up late...and more awake than ever," he continued more quietly.

"Oh, Neville, Harry! Something's happened!" She shrieked, racing down the stairs in a brown blur.

"What?" Harry asked, alarmed. He gave her a once-over but didn't find any injuries.

"It's about-" her gaze darted to the few remaining students that hadn't already gone down for breakfast and were staring curiously at their group. Her voice fell lower, "Let's go to our classroom."

Worried, Harry and Neville shared a glance and quickly agreed. "Ron's gone down to breakfast. He couldn't wait for you."

"We'll tell him later," she dismissed.

They were quickly ushered into the room by a bouncing Hermione who slammed the door shut behind her and announced, "I made my stone work."

For a few seconds, she just stood there basking in the satisfaction of seeing their jaws drop. Then, she continued, "It was last night. Remember the book? That book I was carrying around? When we finally got back last night, I was just too tired to read let alone meditate." She pulled out the golden stone from her pocket. "I usually meditate each night, see. And I- I remember placing the book," her eyes gained a faraway look as her hands unconsciously mimicked the movements. "Placing it on my bedside table thinking that I was too tired to read it. And then I put my stone on it. Just right there in the centre.

Then I had the deepest sleep I ever remember having. When I woke up, I had these thoughts... thoughts that weren't mine." She finally met their enraptured gazes, a slightly awed look in her eyes. "It was from the book. Somehow over the night, my stone had transferred all of the book's knowledge into my mind."

"Hermione," Harry breathed, "That's fantastic! I knew you had it in you!" Then his forehead creased and he asked, "What were the side-effects?"

She shrugged and eyed the stone. "Other than appearing to make me sleep longer, it doesn't seem to do much else."

"So how does it work? Can you remember it as if you just read it?" Neville asked.

"Even better!" she beamed. "Here take it." Neville staggered under the weight of the book as she passed it to him.

"This is huge!" he exclaimed in a rather strangled voice.

"Flip to a page- any page!" she said excitedly. Harry leaned over and helped Neville open the book. They landed on a random page near the end. Leaning closer to read the small print, Harry called out, "Page 736."

Hermione's posture straightened and she took a deep breath. "-verification on the age-old debate regarding the magical levels of a regular wizard but according to the most parsimonious account, there is no evidence to back this claim. Thus, we are forced to take a step back. However, dear reader, remember that this is not a set-back but an optimistic step forwards..."

-Unnamed-

Description: An elliptical stone with streaks of gold.

Function: When placed in on the cover of a book (regardless of the size of the book) overnight, it imparts all knowledge from the book to the user's mind while they are sleeping.

Conditions: User must be sleeping. Only applies to one book at a time. Length of time the user sleeps depends on the size of the book.

She trailed off at their gaping expressions. "Was I right?" she asked smugly, already knowing the answer.

"Blimey!" Harry said with an impressed tone. "I thought nothing could trump the Lifestone but this...this is amazing! No offense intended, Neville." She grinned abashedly.

Neville merely shook his head and said agreeably, "You're right. Hermione's was way better than mine."

"NO!" Both of them cried in unison at him. "I didn't mean that, Nev. Your creation brings back the gift of life. That's a miracle! Hermione's carries the gift of knowledge." He beamed at her. "It suits her." He turned back to Neville, his eyes softening, "The both of you have created unique stones. You didn't even need my help!"

Neville face twisted into an uncertain expression. Harry hated the sight of it because it meant his best friend's vulnerability was getting the best of him once more.

"Nev, do you think you could have made Hermione's stone?" he asked suddenly. Neville looked startled at first then confused.

"No, of course no-"

"Do you think _Hermione_ would have created the Lifestone?" Harry plowed on. To his satisfaction, the only answer Neville could come up with was a slight puff of air escaping from his lips. Hermione stepped in as soon as she realised what Harry was trying to get across.

"I hope you don't mind me answering Neville," she said gently, "But no. I wouldn't have even considered it."

"This is all yours, mate." Harry gestured vaguely in the direction of Greenhouse One. "It's your accomplishment. You did it. You saved the tree, the Bowtruckles. And I'm sure it's only the beginning."

"I- I didn't want to tell any of you," Hermione confessed suddenly. Then, she looked up and met Neville's gaze determinedly, "But I'll tell you now. When you first made the Lifestone... I was jealous." She hung her head. "I wanted it so badly. I meditated every night. I did so _much_ yet you got it first."

"Jea- jealous?," Neville stammered, his eyes wide with shock. She looked woebegone as she nodded.

"Then when I was least expecting it, it just decided to happen. I don't know how and I don't know why. But I'm really glad it did." She gave a small smile. Something in Neville changed at that very moment. Harry called it his light bulb moment. Neville called it the moment where the world started to make sense. Either way, it caused a sudden determined spark to flare up in his eyes and his usually slouched shoulders hitched up.

"I'm really glad too," Neville said, startling Hermione out of her reverie. All of a sudden, the classroom seemed to narrow down to the three of them as each of their smiles grew larger. Looking at his two friends, Harry knew that this was a memory that would forever be etched in his mind. The potential he had originally seen in Neville finally starting to show. The once bossy know-it-all slowly becoming a loyal, perceptive friend. The bond between the three, no four, of them growing exponentially each day. It was all coming together like pieces of a well-loved puzzle.

When they finally left for breakfast, Harry was struck with the realisation that they hadn't named Hermione's stone yet. "So, oh great book-keeper," he teased, "What name have you bestowed upon your stone?"

She flushed at first but when a mischievous spark lit up her eyes, Harry involuntarily took a step back. "Thank you for your advice, wise one." Holding up the stone up like a trophy, she proceeded to grandly announce, "I present thee with... The Bookkeeper's Stone!"

Harry groaned while Neville stared at her blankly and commented drolly, "Succinct."

* * *

"I missed it AGAIN?!" spluttered Ron as they made their way to class. Harry gave him a rough pat on the shoulder.

"Just unlucky mate. You might want turn your stone into a luckstone instead. You'd definitely need it," Harry teased.

"You have the break to work on it," Hermione said sympathetically.

"That's right!" Ron's expression cleared and he quickly regained his enthusiasm. "You're all staying right?"

Instead of the positive replies he was expecting, Hermione and Neville looked at each other nervously and stayed silent. Harry, who had been nodding in resignation, slowly stopped when he saw Hermione bite her lip guiltily.

"Hermione?" he asked gently.

"I'm sorry Harry!" She suddenly wailed and threw her arms around him. "I wasn't planning on going back but then my parents sent me a letter saying how excited they were that they'll see me for Christmas and I just couldn't say no could I, I mean they're my parents, of course they'd want to see their only child but honestly I'd much rather stay here with all of y-"

"Hermione, stop! Breathe! It's ok, I get it!" Harry interrupted her rambling. "It's fine, I perfectly understand. I'd be angry if you DIDN'T go. You too, Nev." He turned to look at the fidgeting boy. "Celebrate Christmas with your Grandmother. Don't worry 'bout us."

"I'm sorry Harry. I would have stayed, I really was going to!" Neville said earnestly.

"It's alright," he comforted Hermione, patting her on the back. "It's alright."

* * *

Harry found Christmas a quiet affair in the castle. Empty echoes of footsteps and voices rang through the corridors. Outside, the darkness of the swirling snow seemed to isolate the castle even more. However, his growing apathy was not reciprocated by other students.

"PRESEEEENTS!" Ron hollered as he leapt out of bed.

"Go back to sleep, Ron," Harry moaned from below his mound of warm blankets. He felt the soft thump of something landing near his feet.

"You've got presents too!" He almost succumbed to the pull of sleep again before Ron's words actually filtered through his mind.

"I've got presents?!" Harry exclaimed, sitting upright. True enough, a square- shaped package sat innocently at the foot of his bed pleading to be unwrapped. He grabbed it eagerly. The present was soft and light. "Clothes?" Harry stated with growing delight. He gently unwrapped it. A fluid, silvery material spilled out onto his blankets. Ron, who had stopped opening his presents to look at what Harry received, gasped.

"I've heard of those," he whispered in awe. "It's an invisibility cloak, I'm sure it is. Try it on!" He insisted. He obligingly stuck a hand under the soft, flowing material and the both of them gave excited yells when his arm disappeared from view.

"Who can it be from?" Harry asked, his pupils blown wide open with excitement.

"There's a note! A note fell out!" Ron pointed at the folded piece of parchment lying to the side of the bed.

_Your father left this in my possession before he died._

_It is time it was returned to you._

_Use it well._

_A Very Merry Christmas to you._

"By anonymous," Harry mused.

"Do you know what this means?" Ron asked, his eyes sparkling.

"What?" Harry asked warily.

"We can explore the school without teachers' knowledge!"

He frowned. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Come on, mate! It'd be fun!"

* * *

"I still don't think this is a good idea," Harry hissed into Ron's ear as they tiptoed past a snoring Percy.

"Since when did you become Hermione?"

"Hey! Hermione's our friend!"

"You know what I meant!" Ron dismissed. "Look, let's go that way!"

They wandered down several corridors and ended up near the library, to Ron's frustration.

"No, I didn't want to come _here," _he said disgustedly. Before they could take another step, Filch's croaking voice reached their ears.

"Are you sure they're here, my sweet?" He crooned. The answering meow seemed to magnify the gravity of their situation. Without a word, they turned and ran as quickly as possible without making a sound or slamming into each other while still ensuring that the cloak covered them adequately.

"This way!" Harry pulled into a nearby classroom with a half-opened door. They stumbled in, the cloak slipping off in their haste. For a few precious minutes, they stared at each other with wide eyes as Filch's footsteps grew louder and approached the door. When they stopped right outside, Harry held his breath and saw Ron do the same. Filch kept walking. Sharing looks of relief, they began to explore the empty classroom. To their surprise, it was not as empty as they initially thought it was.

Leaning against the far wall was a tall, grand mirror with a gold frame. What drew Harry closer was the curious fact that it didn't show his reflection, even without the invisibility cloak on. Ron however, was quicker and stepped ahead of him to get a better look at the small words engraved into the frame.

"Harry!" he said, suddenly breaking the silence of the classroom. "Do you see that? I'm using my stone! I've got my stone and it's working! I've won a trophy for chess...no, I'm the Captain of the Quidditch team... no, it's got me as the Head Boy!" He proclaimed excitedly.

"What?" Harry asked, puzzled. "All I see is..." he stepped in front, "...my parents. Ron, my parents are there." He placed a hand on the cool glass. "Do you think it's real?" Even though he already knew the answer deep down, Harry couldn't help the hopeful lilt in his voice.

At his words, Ron seemed to recover from his trance. He shifted uncomfortably. "I thought it told the future but now... I'm sorry Harry," he said quietly.

"Right." His hand dropped quickly. Suddenly, the need to just _leave_ rose within him. "You know what, let's just go." Ron quickly acquiesced. In his haste to leave, Harry didn't notice Ron turn around and give the mirror a last longing stare.

**A/N: **Hi everybody! Time just passed too quickly... There I was just happily going with the flow and BAM! All of a sudden, it's been 3 weeks since my last (and usually weekly) update. Heh. It wasn't writer's block or real lifeor anything like that... no, I was just being lazy. :) Forgive me?

Right this here is **important**: This story is NOT going to go beyond their first year. It's going to reach the end of Philosopher's Stone and have a really long-winded epilogue and stop there. Just in case anyone thought it would continue for all years... (end of important note)

As for some other things I've been hearing about Harry, don't worry, he may appear rather redundant right now but he's gonna get a huge upgrade by the time the story ends. That's all I'm gonna say. :)

Also, I rushed to get this out for all of you... so if (and I mean _when_) you find any mistakes, please tell me! Thanks to everyone who's already helped to improve my story!


	12. Chapter 11 - Chaos

**This Bag of Stones**

**Chapter 11 – Chaos**

Hermione and Neville both returned the day before the term started, giving the foursome several hours to catch up.

"I've finished all my books at home already!" Boasted Hermione. "I can't wait to get started on the library books..." a dreamy gaze filmed over her eyes.

"You should see the greenhouse!" Neville recounted eagerly. "Gran was so impressed!"

"Well done!" Harry congratulated, happy that they were all together once more.

"What about you, Ron?" Hermione asked, slipping out of her book-induced haze. Unfortunately, she picked the wrong question.

"Oh, so you've finally noticed I'm here?" He snapped sullenly.

Hermione was taken back. "What?"

"Had fun with your stones?" He sneered.

"You're acting like Malfoy," she accused, her eyebrows drawing together.

He jumped out of his seat. "Maybe I deserve to!" With that statement, he stormed out of the classroom, slamming the door shut on his way out. They stared at the door and then at each other in shocked silence.

"What happened?" Neville asked Harry in a hushed voice as if he was scared that Ron would leap out from behind the door and proclaim that he'd been eavesdropping on them the whole time.

"I did notice Ron leaving for a few hours every day but..." He tried to recall Ron telling him anything after these events but nothing sprung to mind. "Perhaps he's just desperate. He hasn't got his stone to work yet after all," Harry shrugged helplessly.

"What do you think is taking him so long?" Hermione questioned, finally daring to ask aloud the question they'd all been wondering. No one answered.

* * *

During Transfiguration class that day, Ron sat with Dean and Seamus at the back, leaving Harry, Neville and Hermione to sit together near the front. Harry and Neville threw hesitant glances towards the back of the classroom but Hermione breezed past without a second look. Throughout the day, she had ignored Neville's attempts at bringing Ron's behaviour up.

"Hermione, you know he didn't mean it," Harry pleaded.

"I don't want to hear it."

"Look, he's not happy either!" Neville pointed out.

"Serves him right."

"Can we just talk it out?" Harry asked desperately.

"He's angry at himself, not us. I'm not going to willingly be his punch bag," she said grumpily. Harry paused for a moment, surprised at her insight.

"What?" she asked at Harry's and Neville's startled faces. "You thought I was just angry because he got mad at me?"

"Get into groups," Professor McGonagall said suddenly, breaking up their little huddle. "I want to see perfect snuffboxes in each group by the end of the lesson." Harry froze at her words and turned slightly pale.

"Harry? What's wrong?" He turned towards her, the dread slowly building up in him.

"I- I didn't prepare." Hermione stared at him blankly for a few seconds before comprehension dawned.

"You don't have a snuffbox?" She whispered back furiously. Before each lesson, Harry would always carefully prepare items that would allow him to use his stones in class. In Transfiguration, he usually used the Swapstone to switch objects into the desired items. The limitation dictated that he had to have the swapped item in his possession in the first place and before the holidays, he'd been very careful to keep the object in his trunk or pocket.

"It was break, I forgot...and then the thing with Ron..."

"Don't worry about it, I'll change mine first then give it to you," she reassured. Neville gave a sigh of relief from next to him.

"See?" she said, waving her wand and uttering the spell. "It's done."

"Bravo, Ms Granger!" came an impressed voice from behind them. Harry jumped ... and came face to face with the last person he wanted to see in that very moment.

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall," Hermione said as she shifted nervously, her gaze skittering towards Harry and the snuffbox that still sat on the table.

"And you, Mr Potter?"

"M-me?" he stuttered, digging into his pocket for the Swapstone. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione's hand swipe the snuffbox away and disappear under the table.

"Yes, you, Mr Potter. Unless you see another Mr Potter in the classroom?" she trailed off. He laughed nervously.

With his wand held limply in one hand, and the stone in the other, he tried to unobtrusively reach for it.

"Well?" She demanded more sternly. He could feel the stares of his classmates directed towards his shaking hand. A drop of sweat trailed down the side of his face.

"Yes, I just-" the Swapstone slipped from his grasp. Only Hermione who was seated on his other side, clearly witnessed the following events. His hand darted forth only to catch empty air. Harry's breath caught and he met her eyes with growing horror.

"Mr Potter..." Professor McGonagall said in a dangerous, low voice. A slow pounding began to echo in his head, followed by goosebumps down his arms. Before he lost his nerve, Harry squeezed his eyes shut, quickly muttered the spell and gave his wand a small flick. The following silence made his stomach drop.

"Harry," Hermione breathed in amazement. He opened his eyes.

In place of the mouse sat a perfect, intricately carved golden snuffbox.

* * *

After dinner, Hermione practically dragged them up to their classroom and slammed the door behind her.

"Alright, I've waited all day. Harry, what was that?"

Neville looked back and forth between the two of them. "What was what?"

"I don't know," Harry confessed. "It came as much of a shock to me."

"What happened?" Neville asked.

"You weren't touching the stone, I saw it!" She said, almost reaching a hysterical tone.

"What?!" Neville said, alarmed.

"I know! I wasn't!" He looked eagerly at her. "Do you think I can use a wand now?"

"A wand!" Neville's eyes shot wide open.

"I'm not sure," Hermione said, sinking into her lecture mode. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully and stared into the distance. "Let's see, you weren't touching the stone but you used magic. You haven't been able use your wand no matter how hard you try. The logical conclusion is that you finally used it... right?" She looked unsure.

"You actually used your wand!" Neville stated in shock. Having been on the other side of Harry, he didn't notice the Swapstone slipping from Harry's hand and assumed that Hermione had managed to pass her snuffbox as planned.

"Try levitating this!" Hermione said excitedly, holding up one of her textbooks. Harry readily pulled out his wand from his pocket and waved it in the motion he remembered others using.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Nothing happened.

"Again!" Hermione encouraged.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" The textbook hadn't moved. The spark of hope in Harry died and his shoulders slumped.

"Maybe it's just a mistake," he sighed.

"Don't give up! In the class, you _really_ wanted it to happen right? You just have to recreate the same feeling you had and it should work!"

He slowly felt himself being convinced by her words. Throwing his memory back, he suddenly remembered the tingling of nerves down his arms and the pounding in his head. He closed his eyes.

"You can do it, Harry," Neville said quietly. Harry gave a small smile in response and tried to put himself back into the same state as the time in the Transfiguration classroom.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" He said loudly. The textbook didn't budge an inch.

"ARGH I GIVE UP!" Harry threw his wand to the other side of the classroom and stomped outside. Hermione glared at the textbook as if it was the one at fault instead while Neville slowly walked over and retrieved Harry's wand.

They walked out only to bump into Harry's back.

"Harry?" Hermione asked before her gaze rose and met Ron's desperate eyes.

"Help me! I've lost my stone!"

**A/N: **Oh dear... it's been a while, hasn't it? Let's start again.

Hello dear readers! I'm sorry for the delay! (I have no excuse... really I don't) I'm sorry the chapter is so short! (In my defense... that was actually all I had planned for this chapter. I thought it would stretch longer.) Please forgive me?

Back to the story, I've been getting a lot of comments about Harry not being able to use a wand and this chapter was pretty much to reiterate that NO he will not be able to use a wand. He'll get something much better. :) Did you enjoy my cliffhanger?

Thank you to all my loyal readers! Really, you got these fingers typing like nothing else! Also, to the mysterious Guests who leave reviews, thank you so much for all your support and help! I'm sorry I can't thank you personally because some of your reviews really really helped me out. Cheers!


	13. Chapter 12- Preparations and Plans

**This Bag of Stones**

**Chapter 12 – Preparations and Plans**

Previously:

_"Harry?" Hermione asked before her gaze rose and met Ron's desperate eyes._

_"Help me! I've lost my stone!"_

Harry stared at him blankly for a few seconds before the information registered in his mind.

"You _what_?"

"My stone! It's gone! The mirror! The mirror ate it!" Ron exclaimed hysterically, flailing his arms around.

Harry's brow furrowed. "Whoa, calm down Ron." Behind him, he heard Neville lean over to whisper to Hermione, "Am I going crazy or did Ron just say the mirror ate his stone?" He tuned out before Hermione could reply and slowly said, "The mirror? What-" Realisation struck and his eyes flew wide open. "RON! You went back to the mirror of Erised!" he accused.

Ron shifted guiltily. "I... I couldn't help it. I'm sorry... but now my stone's gone! I'm paying for it, aren't I?" he begged. Harry knew that Ron was asking for more than his forgiveness for returning to the mirror after being told to stay away but also for getting angry at Hermione and Neville. Glaring at him for a few more seconds to make him sweat, Harry finally sighed and gave Ron a small smile.

Hermione eyed their interaction and tentatively asked, "So...the mirror?"

"Yes, the mirror." Harry frowned again and began to retell the events that led to Ron's obsession with it. "It felt suspicious, see," Harry explained, "Like someone had set it up for us to find it."

At his words, Ron hung his head and hunched his shoulders over in shame. "And I fell for it."

"Hook, line and sinker," Harry agreed. "But it's alright because we're here to get you out," he said, slinging an arm over the morose red-head.

"Cheer up Ron! We've got your back," Neville patted him supportively.

Hermione hummed in thought. "The Mirror of Erised? I'm not surprised you were tempted Ron. After all, that is its main function."

"I still should have listened to you Harry. Merlin, even Dad warned us away from stuff like this!"

"Come on, Ron. There's no use beating youself up over it. Let's get going," Harry prompted and led the way.

* * *

They trooped down to the classroom where the mirror was located. To their surprise, they were greeted with a room with nothing but a pool of velvet cloth lying on the floor in the place of the mirror.

"It's gone," Ron said, his face turning pale with shock. "It's gone!"

"Now Ron, calm down," Harry said turning to him, alarmed.

"GONE!" Ron barged past the others into the room and ran to the end where the cloth lay. "I don't understand... I was just here a few minutes ago!" His voice began to tremble.

"Maybe we're in the wrong room?" Neville offered.

"NO! It's here! Here!"

"It's alright, at least we know where your stone is. Now all we have to do is find the mirror!" Harry said.

"How are we going to find a mirror in this huge castle?!" Ron's fists tugged insistently on his hair.

"Breathe, Ron," Neville soothed. He approached Ron as if he was a wild animal- with his palms facing outwards in the universal gesture of peace.

"I- I can't-" He began to hyperventilate.

"Ron, SIT DOWN!" Hermione ordered. To their shock, he did. The cold, harsh floor seemed to settle him down better than any remedy would and he eventually lost the desperate look in his eyes. Instead, a new burning fire seemed to take its place.

"We have to get it back. We have to."

"And we will, just like we promised. But..." Harry said hesitantly. "It's a bit late."

"And we're too tired to focus," Neville put his tuppence worth in, attracting Ron's glare of ire away from Harry and onto himself.

"They're right, Ron." Hermione shrugged simply. "We need a good night's rest. It's been a long day. Tomorrow's Friday anyway so we can start the search after class and continue over the weekend. What do you say?"

Ron sulked for a little before finally agreeing. He held out his hands for Harry and Neville to help him up. At that moment when they both pulled him to his feet and Hermione beamed at them, every single member of the foursome knew that their friendship had just been reaffirmed and grown stronger thanks to the disaster they had averted.

"We'll think up of places of where the mirror could have gone before class ends tomorrow," Hermione made them all promise before going to bed. With that, they dispersed to their individual beds, leaving Ron to his thoughts and to fidget uselessly with his bedcovers now that his stone was gone. Unknown to Hermione, he had taken her advice and toyed with it faithfully every night before he slept. He sighed and closed his eyes, visions of him triumphantly finding the stone and using it for the first time dancing across the back of his eyelids.

* * *

"We've searched _everywhere,_" Harry moaned, dragging his feet as much as possible.

"No, actually," Hermione said as she frowned down at a list that was long enough to brush the floor. "We've still got Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on the second floor, the Slytherin common rooms and the forbidden corridor."

Ron snorted. "Moaning Myrtle's bathroom? Come on... who'd place the Mirror of Erised in a girls' bathroom?"

"There's a joke there," Neville said, furrowing his forehead. Harry raised his eyebrows at him and turned back to Hermione.

"I think we can rule that one out," he said gravely. "I doubt the person who shifted it intended for it to be used as another reason for girls to stay longer in the bathroom."

"That's it!" Neville exclaimed, his face clearing.

Ron sniggered. "Can you imagine the girls fighting over a mirror? _It's my turn to see myself in the mirror today, oooh look my hair's even prettier than yesterday's, hey my face has no pimples in the mirror!_" He mimed in a high-pitched voice.

Hermione pursed her lips at the three laughing boys and muttered almost crossly, "It would have been an obvious choice. Where else would you hide a mirror but in a room full of mirrors?"

Taking a moment to wipe away the tears caused by laughing too hard, Harry sighed and gently pointed out that it was almost curfew and they should be getting back.

"Hermione," he said before they separated at the bottom of the staircase, "if you want, we can still search the girls' bathroom in the morning." She beamed at him.

* * *

"There's nothing here," she sulked, kicking a nearby wall. Restraining the desire to say 'I told you so', Harry dragged her out to join Ron and Neville who were waiting outside.

"What's next?" Ron asked eagerly. Hermione produced the list once again out of nowhere and this time, they could clearly see the remaining two options at the top of it.

"Well, we've got the Slytherin common room next but I don't know how we'd get in. We managed the other two common rooms by asking someone to check for us but I doubt anyone Slytherin would help us out," Hermione mused, nibbling on her bottom lip.

"The forbidden corridor..." Neville read out loud slowly as he was reading it upside-down.

"We're not supposed to go there...," Hermione trailed off.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Harry asked, spotting the dawning expression on her face.

"What?" Ron asked.

"Dumbledore closed off the corridor on the third floor, right?" Harry confirmed, darting glances at Ron and Neville to make sure they were following him. They nodded. "The only reason you'd ban something is if it's dangerous or... if it's precious. Therefore, it's perfectly reasonable to think that Dumbledore shifted the mirror there to hide it from anyone!" Harry finished triumphantly. "He might have seen you with it," he addressed Ron, "and that made him take it away."

"But that doesn't explain why he blocked it off from the beginning of the term," Hermione pointed out.

"Oh yeah..." Harry said sheepishly.

"But that doesn't mean you're wrong!" Hermione reassured him. She checked the time and said, "We've got two hours till lunch. Let's plan what we're going to do, eat a good meal and then go. Deal?"

Harry agreed happily while Neville cheered. Ron however, seemed to have concentrated on the wrong word.

"LUNCH!"

* * *

The four of them stood in front of the large locked oak door. Harry, who was standing closest to the door, turned around and observed their different expressions. Hermione looked determined and had her wand at the ready but if he peered a little closer, he could see the wand shaking slightly. Neville's face was paler than usual but his eyes met Harry's steadily and he gave a nod. On the other hand, Ron was almost bouncing on the spot in excitement. Before they went any further, Harry felt it was his responsibility to warn them.

"You don't have to do this you know." Ron gave him a slightly betrayed look but it was Hermione's affronted expression and Neville's resounding "Yes we do!" that convinced Harry that they were ready.

"Alright then," he shrugged and took a deep breath. "Let's do this!"

**A/N: **I'm back! Okay, so this is more of a filler chapter because I have to build up SOME excitement for the main event, right? Don't worry, the next chapter shouldn't take as long. I've already started it! *beams proudly*

Right, to address the general questions of the reviews, here goes: Thank you so much for your support of my story and I'm absolutely overjoyed that you like it so much that you want me to continue but... no. I'm sorry. I don't have enough plot points to fill the entire book and that just shapes up for a dull story. I do however, have little excerpts of the future I might like to add-on from time to time. :) We'll see.

If the stones get too confusing for anyone, there's a general index on my profile page specially made for you guys. Cheers!


	14. Chapter 13 - The Tasks

**This Bag of Stones**

**Chapter 13- The Tasks**

_"Let's do this!"_

"Alohomora!" Hermione chanted. The door unlocked with a soft click. Before his nerves could betray him, Harry pushed the door open hard. Too hard. It crashed against the back wall and would have slammed shut in Harry's face if he hadn't had his hand out.

"Argh! Bloody hell!"

"Well that was a good start," Neville commented. Harry shot him a glare and gestured with his left hand which had not been crushed by the door and was currently keeping a tight hold on his pouch of stones.

"Fine then, why don't you go first?"

The Gryffindor shrugged. "Sure," he said and strolled through the door like it was nothing. They gaped at him.

"Nev, mate! Wait up!" Ron yelped and ran in after him. Harry and Hermione shot incredulous looks at each other and rushed to follow their friends, forgetting totally about their carefully thought out plan to ensure that they left the door open in case something happened. Unfortunately for them, it clicked shut with great finality behind Hermione, who entered last and was also the only one who noticed it. The others were too busy gawking at a gigantic mountain of fur.

A low grumbling filled the dim room and was quickly echoed by what sounded like a whole choir of beasts. One massive head peered out of the darkness, its red eyes piercing through them threateningly. Then from right next to it, another pair of red eyes appeared. Further down the line, a third set gleamed hungrily at them.

"Merlin," Ron squeaked. He would, of course, later deny he did this.

The rumbling grew louder and the gigantic beast finally stepped forward, revealing the huge body of a dog with not one but three heads. Each head had bore extremely sharp canines and each head was hungry for a piece of them. They had practically walked right onto the beast's dinner plate.

Hermione swallowed the urge to yell for her mum and instead, focused on identifying their adversary.

"Got any ideas there, Mione?" Harry whispered desperately as he tried to keep an eye on all three heads.

She ignored the nickname and quickly said, "It's a Cerberus. In legend, they're used to guard places like the entrance to the Underworld or-"

"Main points please!" Harry's voice jumped an octave higher as the Cerberus took a step closer, its powerful muscles rippling underneath a smooth sleek body of fur.

Hermione jumped slightly and stuttered out, "Ah- um- In Hercules, he defeated Cerberus with brute strength-"

"Are you crazy?!" Neville exclaimed loudly, forgetting his current position as prey. The ears of the head closest to them flicked backwards slightly and it growled even louder. Neville moaned lowly and seemed to freeze in place.

"-wait for it," Hermione hissed, "in the Aeneid, Aeneas gave it drugged honeycakes to make it fall asleep-"

"Unless Ron is planning to upchuck his lunch, that plan isn't going anywhere!" Harry snapped as quietly as possible.

"It's coming okay?" She seemed desperate now as she ran through the various scenes in books she had read over the Christmas holiday using her stone. "Oh! Orpheus sent the Cerberus to sleep with his harp! Play music, quickly!"

"We don't have music!" This time, Harry didn't control his voice. All three heads seemed to react to it and instead of toying with them like it had been, the Cerberus prowled closer.

"Sing then!" Hermione cried. "Sing!" The head nearest to them gnashed its teeth furiously, sending spittle everywhere. The head beside it raised the corner of its mouth and displayed the full length of its fang.

"Sing... Ron! Sing your Chudley Cannons song!"

"Here?" Ron exclaimed. "I don't think it's appropr-"

"SING!" Hermione and Harry bellowed as the third head snapped forward,

"Chudley Cannons is the best," he warbled. His voice trembled so much they almost didn't understand him at first.

"They flew and fought and beat the rest," he sang slightly off-key.

"Anyone who hears us roar.." The third head had halted its snapping motion and was eyeing him curiously.

"Will only see our broomsticks soar!" Ron gained momentum.

"Keep going," Harry encouraged softly. He spotted the first head struggling to keep its eyelids open.

"Chudley Cannons is the best, they flew and fought and beat the rest," Ron sang happily now that he could see the results of his singing. "Anyone who hears us roar, will only see our broomsticks soar!"

"Harry," Hermione said quietly so that she didn't distract Ron. "There's a trapdoor. Right behind it." Harry followed where she was pointing and spotted it immediately.

"Neville? Nev mate, snap out of it!" He said, shaking his friend. Luckily enough for them, Neville did.

"We're dead we're dead we're dead," he whispered. His brown eyes grew large and stared unseeingly in the direction of the creature.

"Neville." Harry snapped his fingers in front of his face. "Look at me." For a moment, Neville's gaze wavered before snapping into focus and meeting Harry's.

"We're running," Harry stated, trying to make sure his friend understood the situation.

"What?"

"Running," he mouthed as he eyed the almost slumbering beast.

"Where? When?" Neville asked with a confused frown.

"There and now!" Harry said and darted towards the trapdoor. Hermione trailed behind him, pulling Ron along as he continued to sing.

"Hey!" Neville yelped before dashing after them.

Acting quickly, Harry dragged the trapdoor open and held it out for Neville to take a flying leap into it first. Hermione followed and then Ron, who'd been in the middle of the third line, cut off with the word "ROA-". Harry sniggered as the red head's voice echoed around the cavernous room before leaping into the darkness after them and shutting the trapdoor above his head.

"Soft," he noticed, gently pressing a palm against the spongy landing platform.

"Harry?" he heard Hermione whisper in a distressed tone.

"What's wrong?" he whispered back.

"It's a trap." Just as she said those words, he felt strong ropes crawl across his torso and wrap themselves around his arms.

"AHHHHHH!" Ron screamed hysterically. Harry could hear him desperately thrashing around somewhere to his right. The binding tightened around his chest. On his left, he vaguely heard a soft mumbling but it was drowned out by Ron's screams.

"Ron, be QUIET!" He snapped. His words seemed to calm Ron down slightly, enough to stop screaming and moving around as much. Now that it became more silent, Harry could hear Neville's muffled voice in the pitch black darkness.

"-Devil's Sna- plant – hates light!"

"What did he say?" Hermione asked in a hushed voice.

"The Devil's Snare!" Harry answered quickly, struggling to breathe. "Hates light!" The words registered in his mind as he said them and he instinctively thought of the bag of stones he'd specifically held onto for this sort of situation.

"The Devil's Snare...try not to move as much as possible!" Hermione called out. "Harry, can you get to the Dawnstone?"

"Trying," he grunted, reaching into the velvet bag. A vine whipped past him and pulled the bag away quickly but it was too late and his hand was already curled protectively around a smooth white pebble. _LIGHT! _He ordered and a blinding white light exploded into existence, filling his vision with painful black spots. He squeezed his eyelids shut, faintly hearing the cries as his friends were caught by surprise.

The plant winced and unravelled quicker than it first arrived, dropping them onto the cold stone floor beneath the second trap. Next to Harry dropped the bag of stones which he quickly picked up and returned the Dawnstone to after ordering it to stop shining.

"We did it!" Hermione said breathlessly, holding onto a pale but alive Neville for support.

"That must have been Professor Sprout's contribution," Neville said gravely. "That means we're up against traps that the teachers have set up."

"What was that big dog then?" Ron questioned. The other two shrugged but Harry simply looked thoughtful.

"It reminds me of Hagrid somehow... anyway, what do you think is next?"

In answer to his question, Hermione pointed at the row of broomsticks lying innocently next to them.

"Oh great," Neville sighed.

* * *

On the other side of the castle, Headmaster Dumbledore frowned at the sensation of a faint tingling at the back of his neck.

"Severus," he muttered lowly to the dark-haired Professor next to him. "I believe the third floor requires looking into."

The man he was addressing frowned and glanced nonchalantly across the table at Professor Quirrell who was sipping his tea with a hand that shook so much more tea spilled onto him rather than into his mouth. They were currently in the middle of a staff meeting that was held every Saturday afternoons and sometimes bled through till the evening past dinnertime.

"Must be some student," he dismissed, silently contemplating how likely it was to find the Weasley twins near a certain corridor.

The Headmaster merely hummed and warned, "Keep a close eye anyway." Professor Snape acquiesced with a slight tilt of his head.

* * *

The foursome passed the next two challenges with relative ease, Harry displaying his skills at flying as he chased the charmed key around the room and Ron showed off the chess skills he'd been polishing the entire year. Surprisingly enough, it had been Neville that pointed out an alternative route as opposed to the self-destructive one Ron had chosen for himself.

At their impressed glances, he blushed and admitted shyly, "I got tired of Ron constantly trumping me in chess and researched a few strategies." Hermione laughingly welcomed him as a fellow bookworm to which he vehemently denied. Their jokes however, came to a complete halt at the sight, or rather the smell, of the next task.

When they entered the room, a despicable stench greeted their nose but that was not what captivated their attention. Blocking the entrance was a huge, filthy troll almost twice as large as the troll Harry had faced down in the bathroom at Halloween.

"You know what, I take back what I said when we faced the Cerberus," Neville suddenly spoke. "Now we're really goners." The lumbering giant took a step forward and hefted its heavy club into the air.

"Scatter!" Harry yelled and dove towards the right, dragging Hermione with him. Neville and Ron managed to leap away in time as well and the club smashed into where they had been standing, scattering small chunks of the brick floor everywhere.

Before the troll could catch its breath and lift the club once more, Harry quickly fumbled around in his little bag of stones and grasped the Swapstone. _My sock, my dirty grey sock_, _Uncle Vernon's sock, the one with great holes in them, _he thought hard. In a blink, the massive club disappeared and was replaced with a limp, dirty grey sock. The troll grunted dumbly and blinked at the foreign object in its hand for almost a whole minute, earning them a precious few seconds to regroup.

"Harry," Hermione hissed, "Are you aware that right now in your dormitory, your trunk has exploded everywhere and there is a massive, unexplained club there?"

"Any better ideas then?" he hissed back. "Without killing the troll," he added when he saw her open her mouth. Mollified, she slowly closed it again.

"I've got one," Ron announced.

"What?" the three of them asked in unison.

"You lift 'im up with your Wingstone and while you're doing that, we go through the door then you can let him down. When we come back out, you do the same thing. Then no one gets hurt!"

"Why can't you use your wands?" Harry asked.

"Because the Levitation Charm requires more power according to the weight of the object. Lifting a troll that big would drain us immediately!" Hermione explained, sending an approving look towards Ron. "The Wingstone depends on concentration not weight."

Then she frowned. "It'll be dangerous."

"We've almost died more in the past ten minutes than in my entire life," Neville snorted. "I think we'll be fine."

They all turned to Harry who held up his hands and said, "I'll have to concentrate. You can't distract me."

"Hermione will lead you," Ron said determinedly and squared his shoulders before facing the troll. "I'll distract him will you get ready." With that parting shot, he zoomed towards the other side of the room, attracting the troll's attention.

"Hey you! Yeah you, you big lump! Come over here! Here!" Ron yelled, jumping up and down and waving his arms above his head. Harry once again plunged his hand into the bag and grabbed the lightest stone that he immediately recognised as the Wingstone. He tightened his grip and stared hard at the troll that was only two steps away from crushing Ron.

_Lift lift lift lift, _he concentrated. The troll lifted one leg. And then the other. Ron cowered in the corner, pushing his back against the wall as much as possible. _LIFT_ Harry ordered. Just as the troll had been about to slam its clawed monstrosity of a foot on top of Ron, it encountered a strange invisible resistance in the air. Confused, it pushed harder on the barrier but before it could do more, its entire body lifted several inches off the ground.

The troll flailed its limbs around and began to grunt and wail desperately as it floated higher and higher in the air. Harry didn't notice Ron slumping to the ground in relief and wiping his forehead jokingly. Hermione's whispered words of "This way Harry" as she led him towards the door barely registered in his mind.

His focus was concentrated on levitating the troll and ensuring that its frantic grabs in the air didn't reach them. It was entirely unknown whether or not he blinked in those few scrabbling moments that it took them to pass the doorway. Neville quickly slammed the door behind Harry, breaking his concentration and allowing him to finally relax and let go of the Wingstone.

"We did it," Hermione whispered, her eyes huge with incredulous awe.

"We did it!" Neville echoed happily. Ron fistpumped and started hopping on the spot.

"Yes yes yes yes! Merlin, what a rush!" he crowed. Harry simply gave a relieved laugh and sagged against a nearby wall.

All of a sudden, a wall of purple fire burst into flame and covered the entire doorway, blocking their escape. Harry yelped and jumped away from the wall. Along the opposite side of the wall, another wall of fire and this time it was black, blocked the only other exit. The others stopped celebrating and a heavy tension fell over them. While the three boys were exchanging nervous looks, Hermione began to explore the room they were now stuck in.

"Look," she called softly, drawing their attention to a low table in the centre of the room. A row of seven vials were neatly arranged in a straight line, all of them of varying shapes and sizes. Next to it was a roll of parchment that Hermione quickly snatched up and began reading aloud to them.

_"Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

_Two of us will help you, which ever you would find,_

_One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

_Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

_Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

_Three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line._

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,_

_To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide_

_You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;_

_Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

_But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;_

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight." _

(From J.K. Rowling's Philosopher's Stone)

Harry listened to her chanting, closing his eyes to concentrate further on the words that slipped fluidly past her lips. When she finished, he opened his eyes to see her strangely gratified expression as she stared down at the paper.

"Well, I'm lost!" Ron announced. Neville however, seemed to have spotted the same thing Harry did and gently prodded her.

"Hermione?"

"Oh!" She jerked back to look at them and beamed. "It's a puzzle! Oh, this is sheer genius, wizards are hardly logical – this'll have them stumped here forever!"

"But not you, right?" Harry guessed. She gave him an impish grin.

"This tells me everything," she said patting the paper. "There are seven bottles: three are poison, two are wine, one goes through the black fire and one for the purple." She cocked her head towards the doorways.

"Which one for the black fire?" Harry asked, throwing a glance at the doorway in question. She hummed and nibbled her bottom lip before picking up the smallest bottle of the lot.

The four of them stared blankly at the tiny bottle, even Hermione looked surprised that she had picked it up.

"That's it?" Neville asked dryly.

"That's nowhere near enough for all of us!" Ron near wailed.

"I guess we could take really small sips," Hermione mused as she eyed the vial speculatively.

"No," Harry declared decisively. "They only want one person to go through, that's fine. I'll go."

"No!" protested Ron. "It's my stone, I go!"

"No, listen," Harry insisted. "I should have stopped you from going back to see the Mirror, it's my fault-"

"If we're blaming people then it should be me!" Ron began hotly.

"We're all going together!" Hermione interrupted loudly with a firm look. "In for a penny, in for a pound. That's what we all agreed at the start!"

"In for a what?" asked Ron with a baffled look. Hermione impatiently waved their protests away and tapped a finger against the fragile glass of the bottle thoughtfully.

"Harry, pass me the Witstone," she ordered, holding a hand out. He quickly passed it to her before she turned her ire upon him. Together, the three boys stepped back and watched as Hermione turned the stone over in her hand and contemplated the small bottle and the fire blocking the doorway.

"Barmy, that one," Ron said in a bewildered but slightly fond tone.

"I'm surprised she even needed the Witstone for this," Neville commented offhandedly, not expecting Hermione to turn back and stare at him with her eyes alight with a strange fire.

"Oh, you can have that back Harry," she said, flipping her hair back and holding out the stone. Harry returned it to the bag and ignored the slight sensation as its powers began to accelerate his mental processes.

"Well what was it for then?" asked Ron.

"I was just checking if my theory would work."

"And?"

"Well, Harry," she purred smugly. "Tell me. How exactly does the Swapstone work?"

Harry drew back slightly before the influence of the Witstone began to make its presence known in his mind. _The Swapstone... she couldn't be thinking... no... no way! _

"No humans, Hermione," he said firmly. However as he said it, seeds of doubt began to dig in roots in his mind.

She pouted. "Who says? Is it a condition of the stone?"

His mouth went dry. "N-no. But it's just not done!" Again, his mind reminded him that he was just being squeamish and Hermione was right. She merely raised an eyebrow at his feeble protests and turned to the other two.

"The conditions of the Swapstone specify that firstly, the object has to be in Harry's possession and secondly, that that the swapping only lasts for an hour. The term 'Harry's possession' is rather ambiguous... not defined clearly," she corrected at Ron's confused face. When his expression didn't clear, Hermione changed her approach. "Alright, how would you claim an object as yours?"

Ron shrugged at her expectant look so she turned to Neville instead. He dithered for a few moments before offering, "By writing your name on it?"

"Exactly!" Hermione said excitedly. "So what do you think would happen if we write Harry's on our skin?"

"We...belong to Harry?" Neville guessed.

"That's horrible!" Ron exclaimed, wrinkling his nose. "No offense mate," he hastily added at Harry's sour expression.

"None taken."

"We don't have to agree of course," Hermione reassured. "But magic doesn't know that. And if we do enough to convince it that we belong to Harry, it really will think so!"

Harry looked unsure by her reasoning. "I- I don't know about this."

"We'll do it," Neville said. Harry glanced at him, at his solid stance and determined eyes.

"What if I go in there and don't call you?" He challenged only to catch sight of Hermione's soulful brown eyes.

"We trust you, Harry," she said simply. With those few words, she broke down his remaining barriers and his shoulders lumped, knowing that he lost the battle. Even though he was going to be out of her sight for a few precious minutes, both of them knew that he would still follow her orders.

She quickly pulled around her bookbag and dug out a quill and inkwell.

"Here," she handed the quill over to Neville after quickly scrawling _"Harry's" _on the back of her hand. The boy in question tried his best to stop blushing in embarrassment but failed miserably and twin splotches of red bloomed across his cheeks.

"I'll just go then," Harry said and snagged the smallest bottle from the table. Before anyone could protest, he uncapped the vial, downed the potion in a single gulp and leapt through the black flames ahead of him.

The sensation of an icy bath being dumped on him trickled down his spine. He gave a quick shudder to rid himself of the feeling before pulling out the Swapstone. Just as he turned the stone in his hand, he suddenly remembered that using the stone required an object to be swapped _with_ it. And since there were 3 people, he required 3 objects. None of which he had.

On the other side of the wall, Hermione suddenly looked up and asked her two companions, "Did Harry check if he had 3 spare things to swap us with?" Ron shrugged while Neville frowned and gave her a negative answer.

"Oh, Harry," she sighed.

Meanwhile, Harry was busy digging his pockets desperately in search of any loose items. He pulled out a broken quill and his wand. The other pocket had his bag of stones which he of course couldn't use... it was thanks to the Witstone's influence that he arrived at the perfect solution so quickly.

He emptied the bag and carefully placed all of the stones in his pockets. Carefully placed on the floor in front of him were the 3 necessary objects: an empty drawstring bag, a broken quill and a holly and phoenix wand. He closed his eyes and thought of the 3 people in the room behind him. When he opened his eyes again, they were in front of him and the three objects were gone.

"How did it feel?" he asked.

"Like the strangest sensation ever," Neville replied as Ron rubbed the goosebumps on his arms. Hermione gave him a huge smile and threw her arms around his neck.

"I'm so glad you went through with it, Harry," she mumbled into his neck before withdrawing and stepping back a few steps.

"You knew I was going to anyway..." Harry hedged, his eyes refusing to meet hers.

"Break it up lovebirds," Ron said boredly. "The Mirror's here!" His words broke them out of their stupor and they quickly hurried over to where he was standing.

"So this is the Mirror of Erised, huh?" Hermione said as her eyes roved over every inch of the polished surface. "I show not your face but your heart's desire," she read slowly.

Ron stared hard at his reflection in the mirror. "Come on, come on. Please stone, come back to me!" he pleaded.

Neville watched him worriedly, not even slightly tempted to look in the mirror. Harry however, was distracted by a slight scuffing noise that came from behind them. He turned around – and gasped.

**A/N: **What is this? An update within the week? No way. It's longer than usual too! I think I deserve some praise here, dear readers. * hint hint* Just kidding.

As you can see, I've been good and updated quickly. Just don't expect it to repeat anytime soon. The next chapter might take some time because - heads-up! – it's going to be the last chapter. Probably. I'm planning it to be that way but chances are it won't.

So I hope you enjoyed that chapter, I had heaps of fun writing it! Review please! :)

Ps. I forgot to mention that the 100th reviewer will have the pleasure of always holding a special place in my heart. If that's not enough of an incentive, I don't know what is! ;)


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